


Moxie

by riellestate



Category: Deadpool - Fandom, Spider-Man - Fandom, spideypool - Fandom
Genre: Alcoholic!Peter, Alcoholism, Bruce is kind of in this, Canon-Typical Violence, Cop!Peter, Cop/Mob AU, Depession, Eventual Smut, Grief, Gwen's Death, He may or may not stay that way, Hostage Situations, I use the term loosly, I'm not sure yet, M/M, Mobster!Wade, Mourning, Pretty(ish) wade, Sick!May, Tags and Warnings May Change, Wade is 32 and Peter is 25, aunt may - Freeform, buddy cop, non-graphic mentions of rape, nothing worse than it I think, or rather, slow-burn, sort of, straight/bicurious Peter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9091408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riellestate/pseuds/riellestate
Summary: After Wade finds out about his daughter, he does whatever he can to keep her out of the hands of those he works for, or against.Peter is a young cop assigned to (begrudgingly) work with Wade to tackle the up-rise in organized crime.Wade looks to protect what he has while Peter mourns and stands to lose what little he has left.Together, the two are tasked with shutting down the mob group Wade works for while also having to deal with the larger mob group known as Hydra.





	1. Introduction

It was around three in the afternoon and Peter arrived back to the ever bustling New York City police department. He was tired, deep in thought. Domestic violence calls were always incredibly stressful, especially when children were involved. Most cases are more or less the same. Angry and/or drunk man, crying woman, crying child, a neighborhood of onlookers.  
  
Another police car took the newly cuffed man. Peter was in charge of the bulk of the paperwork.  
As usual, he was greeted by Jennifer at the front desk. Her normally blonde hair was apple red today, which Peter hadn’t bothered to notice earlier in the morning.  
  
“Hey there, Peter. How’d it go?” She crossed her arms and leaned forward on her desk, inviting Peter in with a smile. She was sweet on Peter, hell, she was sweet on any young handsome cop who passed her way, but especially Peter.  
  
Peter closed the distance between the doorway and her desk, his finger-tips tapping on the desk top. “It was fine, I mean uh, for a domestic case. No one got too hurt.” He returned, scratching behind his neck idly. Peter wasn’t interested in her romantically, and she knew that. Still, they would chat around at work on if Peter happened to be coming or going.  
  
She pushed up her glasses, “That’s good, that’s good! Were there children involved?” Peter nodded, “Such a shame,” she finished. Peter always remembered the fear in the children's eyes when they looked at him, so worried he was going to take their parents away from them. The distrust in him. He understood why, but he wanted to do everything he could to keep these children safe first and happy immediately after.  
  
“Your hair,” Peter shifts the conversation and she’s already sitting up, grinning at the oncoming attention, “It’s different. Suits you, though.” Peter smiled and she blushed.  
  
“Ah Petey you’re so sweet.” Peter hated that nickname. She always used it and he felt rude asking her not to, especially since they weren’t technically friends – never talking outside of work or for more than ten minutes at a time.  
  
“Well it does. Any-who, I really gotta get upstairs. I’ll see you around.” He waved, receiving a wink in return as he jogged up the stairs to where all offices and cubicles were.

  
He was lucky he kept in shape outside of work or he’d be suffering up these stairs every day like it was high school all over again. Only with less dread.

  
It was always busy at the top of the staircase. Men and women in blue, grey cubicles, some off to the side offices for the higher ups; department leads or the police chief. Peter’s eyes always drift towards the one on the far left, glass windows with the bottom half covered by some matte black lining; the chief’s office. Every day he remembers Captain Stacy greeting him in that office when he first started here three years ago.

 

_7:15am_

_“Peter. Great to see you fitting into some good and solid structure.” His future father-in-law jabbed at him, crossing his arms and looking the boy over. “Gwen is going to hate you.” He gave Peter a fond smile, which Peter returned._

_Peter knew how stressed her father’s occupation was to her, and him following along in his footsteps probably didn’t help either. She’d much have preferred Peter go into the biochemical engineering field he got his bachelors in –which he may do someday— but this is was what called to Peter, so he decided that this is what he had to do._

_They’d been dating since their sophomore year in high school. Attracted to each others intelligence at first, eventually forming a close bond that no one had been able to come between. Now, both in their early twenties, they were engaged and still just as in love as they’ve always been. Captain Stacy was stern off the bat, but soon found himself welcoming Peter into his family unconditionally._

_“Oh, she totally will. I just hope she can be proud of me too.” Peter approached him, fidgeting with the gadgets around his waist. He felt that reassuring clasp on the shoulder indicating he had to be doing something right._

_1:00pm_

_Peter lifted his head after being buried in paperwork for god knows how many hours at the familiar sound of his fiance’s voice from across the room. Her beautiful blonde hair draping over her shoulders, back facing him. It was times like these when Peter would thank his god damned lucky stars that he woke up next to her – that she was his best friend on the planet._

_Once her attention shifted to him, he looked back down at his paperwork and pretended not to notice – an old habit from high school that he never quite dropped—not that it fooled her.  
“Hey Petey,” she beamed once she arrived to his desk, sitting on the side of his desk and stretching her legs out. _

_“Hey Gwendy,” Peter grinned, taking her hand and pressing a kiss against her ring finger with a bright diamond resting at the base. They gave each other those nicknames early in their relationship. Both names that annoyed them when spoken by other people, but loved being called such by one another._

_“How do you like your first day?” She gave a glance around the bustling floor. “Doesn’t seem as nice as, I dunno, a lab would be.” She brought her eyes back to peter, trying to contain her worry in a way only Peter and her mother could see through. He could swear her eyes were somehow scientifically enhanced by angels. They always had a glint Peter couldn’t shake_.

_“Gwen. I like it. It feels right – being able to help the city. Plus it’s not like I’m doing any serious work yet. I’m still just-"_

_  
“The grunt?” She cut him off, crossing her arms in some sort of triumph._

_“I was going to go with new guy, but yeah.” Peter chuckled, crossing his arms on his desk and laying his head down on them in an exasperated manner, gazing up at her. “I love you, you know?” He grasped the fabric of her jacket between his fingertips, idly playing with the fabric._

_“I love you too, Peter. Don’t do anything stupid.”_

But that was then. The office didn't belong to George Stacy anymore. 

By the time he reaches his cubicle (which is placed uncomfortably close to both the staircase and the restrooms) he realizes that there is no Gwendy or Captain Stacy anymore. No beautiful perfect fiancé, no strong father-like figure. All that was left was the new Captain Hammond, himself, and the rest was just noise as far as he was concerned.

Hammond was a good man. Peter had nothing against him or his disturbingly perfect mustache. He knew for sure that Hammond and Stacy would clash; either hating each other or becoming best friends. They never got a chance to meet seeing as Hammond was brought in from a different department after Stacy’s death. Somewhere from Texas, if Peter could recall correctly.

Peter couldn’t look at the office without feeling some measure of pain. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Captain Hammond himself barking for Peter to get into his office, which he obliged, despite having just sat down.  


“Parker, good work on the Shaye case.” The man commended as he sat in his own big puffy chair across from the hard metal framed one Peter took. 

  
“Thank you sir, I appreciate it.” Peter sat up straight, fighting off the grimey guilt and anxiety he felt every time he sat in this chair. “Is that why you called me in here?”  
  
The older man shook his head. “No, it isn’t,” he eyed Peter up and down, making the younger man shift in his seat. “You’re here to be made aware of your new position as detective.” The Captain fingered through his file drawer in his desk, leaving the younger man to gape at him.  
  
Peter definitely hadn’t expected anything like a promotion. Peter tried his best to help people, but since Gwen’s death he wasn’t operating at 100%. He was more careless and less invested. In addition to that, Peter already had marks on his record from not following protocol. Letting things slide for some people, pursuing cases that were already closed in secret because Peter knew that there was more to the story.  
  
If anything, he had been expecting to be fired.  
  
“Are you- thank you sir. I’m not sure I understand why.” His brows furrowed.  
  
“You have more heart than you think you do, and while in the past you’ve been reprimanded for following your intuition – _blindly_ \-- it’s just what we need for this case.” Hammond tossed a manila pouch to Peter’s side of the desk, who immediately picked it up.  
  
‘Flannigan’ was the only thing written on the cover, nothing else.  
  
“The mob? Are you serious?” Peter had wanted a case on organized crime for years but he was too low level to get one.  
  
“I trust you, Peter. To get the job done and to stay…on task. We’ve lost a few of our own to bribery and silence.” Hammond held a sullen tone for a moment, as if mourning them even though they weren’t dead. Just manipulated and bribed.  
  
“We have an informant of our own on the inside. A man by the name of Wade Wilson.”  
  
“But, how did you get someone on the inside? How can we trust him?” The name sounded familiar. He remembers Captain Stacy talking about him at the dinner table, until his wife corrected his poor table manners. Wade was a bonafide _killer_. Ruthless. Former special ops, deciding his time was better spent following the organized crime trend after a dishonorable discharge. Something about a lot of scars and blonde hair. That’s all Peter could really recall from that conversation. Still—the man was known for being ruthless. “He’s basically a mercenary,” Peter continued.  
  
“Exactly.” Hammond leaned back in his chair. “And he made sure we paid the highest price.”  
  
“I-I see, except uh, no I don’t really understand.” Peter’s hands fidgeted with the paperwork in his hands, cursing himself inwardly for not growing quite out of his socially awkward phase. If Peter were to do his best on this case, he should know all the details right?  
  
“You can ask him yourself. He hangs out at Sister Margaret’s Home for Wayward Psychopaths. You’ve probably arrested half the men and women in that joint. Go under dressed.” Peter nodded. “You get special leniency on this case, but don’t abuse it, so help me god. And I expect full reports every day.” Peter felt something surge through him he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Excitement, anticipation, hope, purpose. Purpose. He could make a huge impact on the city if he could just work with this guy.  
  
“Sir I-Thank you so much. I won’t let you down.” Peter stood and went to leave before turning on his heel to see the older man again.  
  
“Oh and Peter, you’re going there tonight at 9.” The older man finally dismissed him, not even looking at the boy before reading over some emails.  
  
Peter grabbed his things from his desk across the room from the chief’s office, making sure to retrieve what he always did on his way home. Excitedly clutching the file close to his chest, he jumped down the stairs feeling more than ready to mull over the file at home. He was a _detective_ now. He could fix his air conditioning. He could do something with his life aside from push papers and break up street brawls. He could take better care of Aunt May.  
He waved Jennifer off before jogging to his car parked in the basement garage.  
  
-+*-+-+*-+-+*-+-+*-+-+*-+-+*-+-+*-+-+*-+

  
Wade was sat in the corner of Sister Margaret’s, waiting for a special someone to come his way. That special someone being a cop, well, the chief said a detective would be meeting him here tonight. His hand trained around his tumbler, slouched slightly in his booth. He could see Weasel, one of his best (and only) friends flirting with some hot young thing at the bar. Nothing ever really changed around here. Weasel, dead-pools, testosterone and violence. Yup, that pretty much sums it up. Wade would much rather be up there socializing, but he had business to attend to. In this corner.

No, for real.

  
This meeting was important for Wade. He was finally doing something good for someone else, even if his hand was somewhat forced on the matter.  
  
Peter walked into the bar in his civvies, nothing but gun strapped to his waist but hidden by his jacket. He knew better than walk into a place like this without some type of protection. Peter hated guns, honestly. They took everything from him. As far as he was concerned, it was a tool for his job that he hoped never to use every day when he went into work.

  
He wasn’t sure what Wade looked like other than “scars” and “blond.” When he noticed a tall broad man in the corner waving enthusiastically at him, he looked around and slinked his way over there.

  
“Hey you. Real subtle.” Wade greeted as Peter took a seat. The man was lean and pale, his hair was chocolate and messy. He wore his glasses (Peter usually wore contacts on the job) and he looked so delectable. Hot really, which Wade didn't expect from some random cop. Wade would have to be on his best behavior, if he could. It was a topic up for debate in the inner workings of his mind.

  
Peter ignored the comment and crossed his arms on the surprisingly not filthy table in front of him.

“Are you Wade?” The older man nodded, eyeing Peter up and down.

  
“I sure am, sweetheart. Annnd you are?” He took a drink of his cheap whisky.

  
“Uh…” Peter looked around again.

“Relax. Didn’t mister-manly-pants debrief you? First name only, if that’s what you’re comfortable with or something. This place is more or less clean. Well actually it’s a filthy shit hole. ‘Ts why I come here.” Wade chuckled at him, seeing some sort of embarrassment creep up on the younger man’s face.

“Peter.” Peter forced himself to relax, rolling his shoulders and leaning back in his chair. Admittedly, he’d never done this before. The man in front of him had scars on his face. He wasn’t covered, there was still skin unmarred. Objectively, the man was very handsome. Could have a woman for every day of the week if he wanted. His blond hair was longer on top than the sides, like a short undercut. He wore a red t-shirt with some slogan on it, worn out from wash and wear and a black hoodie on top. Peter couldn’t see his pants. The man was built. Broad shoulders were the tip of the iceberg.

“How old are you, Petey pie?” Wade leaned forward.

“Don’t—uh…I don’t like being called that. And I’m 25.” Peter really hated that nick name.

“What in the ass?! You’re like a baby, boy. Baby boy! I’m soo calling you baby boy.” Wade gaped, his mouth forming an O. Wade had about seven years on this kid at the ripe old age of 32.

“What? Fine.” Peter didn’t want to argue with taller man.

“Wellll onto business. I’m your super-secret little spy. Well, not so little if you catch my drift.” He wriggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’m trying not to.” Peter held back any look of amusement his body may have wanted to portray. “I think we should exchange phone numbers. The one I’m going to give you is for the purpose of speaking to you and you alone.” Peter held up some cheap old touch screen phone, predating the iPhone 4.

“Wow, a burner. You sure you’re not actually a drug dealer?” Wade took the phone and plugged in his phone number.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not, last I checked anyway. I think I actually arrest them.” Peter quipped back with a hint, or more than a hint, of sarcasm and took his phone back when Wade was done. His chiseled features looking amused at Peter, causing a slight shade of pink to crawl across his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  
“Like what, baby boy?”

“Like you aren’t taking this seriously.” Wade heart warmed at Peter’s acceptance of the nickname he chose for him, but didn't appreciate the accusation.

“Oh, I’m taking this serious as a heart attack. You need to know right off the bat that I have very high stakes in this. The highest. But acting uptight won’t make this move along any quicker.” Peter was surprised by how concise and to the point he was, and how right.

“Why are you so invested in outing your own organization? They screw you or something?” Peter pressed. He believed the man genuinely wanted to help and get out of a bad situation, but given his reputation he wasn’t sure why. His gaze turned to confused when he felt him boop him on the nose.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out. It’s a slow burn type of thing. They have something important to me.” Wade smiled at him, but Peter could tell it was pained. “Let’s leave it at that, baby boy.”

“Right. I got it.” Peter nodded, offering a polite smile. He’d get it out of him eventually. They were still building their trust.

“SO what’s a pretty young thing doing on the police force? Especially at your age.” Wade leaned his chin on his propped up intertwined fingers like a girl on a date.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Peter snarked back, a small grin on the corner of his lips. Wade sat back and made an O with his mouth.

“Oh baby boy, I love this foreplay.”

“This- Fore-what?” Peter stammered, making Wade chuckle.

“You know, foreplay. The little things leading up to the main event. Or, maybe not so little things?” Wade leaned to the side, taking a gander at Pete’s lap under the table.

“I’m not gonna sleep with you? Is that something I even have to say?” Pete put his hands on his lap without thinking.

“Oh I’m just kidding, baby boy. Not that I’m not open to it, if you know what I mean. Wade Wilson, versatile.” Wade put his hand out to shake, eliciting a laugh from Peter that he couldn’t hold down even if he tried, quickly adjusting to Wade’s humor. What made this different than the chuckle from earlier was that Peter’s heart was in it, instead of being weight down by whatever else was going on in his life. Seeing this guy’s genuine laugh warmed Wade’s heart in some way. The guy was hot, first off. Adorable brown eyes, his hair was messy – especially for someone with such authority – and he had the nerdiest glasses. The only thing that would tip Wade off to Peter being a cop is his posture and build. He wasn’t bulky or large like Wade was, but he obviously worked out.

“Rightt. Uh, anyway. If you don’t have any information right now, I should be going home.” Peter said, leaning back. This was just an introductory meeting. The meat of the issue would come later.

“I’ll be texting you, Baby Boy.” Wade smirked and stood, his hands in his jacket pockets and sauntering out of the bar.

  
Peter sat there for a while fiddling with his phone, playing with the idea of buying a drink. He should have just up and left when Wade did, but he remained in his seat as if waiting for someone to grant him permission that he could give to himself.

Following Gwen’s death, binge drinking became a regular part of Peter's life. The whole year was spent hungover in the day and wasted at night alone in his cold apartment. If not for his Aunt May’s vigilance and love he would have also lost his job in the midst of everything else going on.

Peter had been sober for a year now thanks to his aunt’s support in his well-being, teaching him coping mechanisms and holding him responsible when he cracked.

In an effort to maintain his aunt’s trust and hard work he elected to head home before any mistakes were made, allowing the events of the day to play over in his head.


	2. Pre-Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a visit with Aunt May, Peter meets Wade at Sister Margaret's to discuss a hit Wade was called upon to carry out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year you guys! This chapter felt really stale to me when I was writing it, but hopefully it is a little more entertaining to you guys. The next one will be way more exciting.  
> There's some insensitive comments towards Peter about his past addiction. Not sure if there's a word for that but figured I'd let a brotha know.
> 
> P.S. Don't forget to comment! I'd love to read some feedback!

Hospitals represent the passing of the torch. Life to death, new opportunities, transition of care from one to another. To Peter, it was taking the injured he’d pick up on patrols or calls to get the proper care they needed. A hospital was merely somewhere people could shift responsibility.

Peter participated in this shift again when he drove Aunt May to the hospital three months ago. It started with what felt like a heart attack, which is what ultimately landed her in a hospital bed. She’s was in and out of the hospital at first but for the last month has been there continuously. The doctors diagnosed her with heart disease. Neither of them expected it. She was cold and in pain and felt like she was dizzy or light headed. May had been running smooth up until now, and suddenly this was dropped in their laps.

She’s been positive in front of Peter, but he can see the pain in her eyes. Her condition has gotten worse since they admitted her to the hospital. Her distant stares out the window when they talk, the way she looks more intensely into Peter’s eyes.

She talks about Ben more too, and even Gwen, until she saw Peter couldn’t take it. She tried to talk about her positively in hopes it would help Peter move on, but she could tell he wasn’t as over it as he said. He could go back and forth with her about Gwen for a little while, but the energy in the room would definitely change to something more depressing.

With all their talking, neither of them are willing to call attention to the elephant in the room: May’s future.

His regular visit with his aunt ended on a somewhat good note. She seemed more chipper and her doctors spoke optimistically about her condition. They even said she might be able to go home soon, which had her talking about things she wanted to once she was discharged. Peter was ecstatic about this. Things were going his way, for once. He had a new promotion, an exciting new case, and his aunt was finally making some progress.

Once his visit came to a close, Peter hopped on the train towards Sister Margaret’s to meet Wade like they had discussed over text ( _meat me at SM@3p – W_ ). Wade texted him a lot, these days. Partly for business, but usually it was just Wade wanting to chat. Wade and Peter were partners of sorts for this case, but they were from completely different worlds and stood for completely different things. Peter didn’t want any personal connection with Wade, but even he had to admit he missed talking to someone other than his aunt in his free time.

Sure, he had the occasional chat with MJ but since Peter started dating Gwen in high school (and not paying attention to the redheaded bombshell anymore) she was always “too busy for him.” Talking or seeing each other for them was rare. Talking with Harry was even rarer. According to his Instagram, he was jet-setting and partying with beautiful European super models.

In turn, Peter reluctantly indulged Wade’s uh… _discussions_ in a selfish effort to quell his own loneliness.

 3pm was pretty early for a bar, so he was wondering why they had to meet there in the first place. Why not a café or a restaurant? Peter got that Wade liked the bar because of security reasons, but it took real concentrated effort for Peter to stay dry in there.

The train smelled like piss and vomit and felt like germs crawling all over him, but Peter was used to it. He’s been taking this train since he was 15 when his uncle Ben convinced May that he was old enough to commute by himself. Uncle Ben was always encouraging Peter to grow up at a healthy pace, wanting him to grasp being a responsible adult before he needed to be.

Peter appreciated the anonymity of the train, especially given his profession. Now with his promotion, he was allowed to work in his civvies,too. Not that he didn’t _love_ the blue uniform, but this is much easier. No one would suspect Peter of being a cop unless they were looking very carefully. It was slightly harder to blend in with Wade’s crowd, but he seemed to be managing just fine so far. No one wanted to mess with Wade, it seemed. Given what Peter has heard about him, he isn’t surprised. Still, over the text messages Wade came off as harmless. Flirty as hell, dirty, childish, annoying, _crazy_ , but also surprisingly kind, empathetic, and hilarious.

Maybe if their roles were different they could have been normal friends.

When his stop came, he only had to walk a couple blocks to get to the bar. Once Peter opened the door, he was greeted by the smell of alcohol, smoke and what Peter could only guess was old blood.

Light flooded the bar from the small windows close to the ceiling. The room was empty except for some chick in the corner in an apron, presumably a waitress, Wade and a tired looking redheaded man at the bar. The smoke and dirt of the establishment didn’t bother Peter (although he knew a few health inspectors who would feel differently), but the stench of alcohol made Peter’s stomach twist.

Peter didn’t want to cross into too-personal territory with Wade and express his avoidance of bars and why he did so, so he agreed to meet here despite his own personal hurdles.

When Peter made his way to the bar, he almost felt like he was intruding on the friends mid laughter. Wade was in his usual black hoodie and blue jeans. He was sitting at the bar with his arms crossed on the counter top and his _really_ old converse shoes pushing against the foot rest bar of the barstool. There weren’t as many scars on this side of his face than the other side. The scars Wade had looked like old gashes or burns covering his cheek and part of his forehead. He had a scar on his eyebrow, and some other scars presumably from cuts on his other cheek, but they weren’t as dramatic in comparison to the other side of his face.

The laughter from the man behind the bar died down when he saw Peter, but a residual smile still on his face. “I’m sorry pal, we’re not open yet.”

“Oh, this isn’t just any old pal, Weas. This is my Peter.” Wade leaned off the bar, clapping his hands together and smiling at Peter. Wade’s blue eyes seemed to stick out against the half marred face.

“ _You’re_ Peter? Oh kid, you poor fuck.” Weasel sighed to himself, wringing out a towel over the sink built into the bar.

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Peter leaned against the bar with the other men. Had Wade been talking about him? Peter wondered what he could have been saying about Peter to elicit that reaction. ' _You're_ peter?'

“Name’s Weasel. I’m unfortunate enough to have to look at Wade on any normal given day. Anyway, what do you wanna drink?” Weasel grabbed a glass. Both he and Wade were looking at Peter expectantly.

“Oh I uh…don’t drink?” Peter rubbed behind his neck awkwardly. A nervous tick he hardly noticed. Peter wasn’t sure why he phrased that as a question.

Wade necked down his shot before looking between Peter and Weasel. “You don’t drink? What kind of sorry diddly-do doesn’t drink?” Wade gaped. It was insensitive, yes. Still, Wade couldn’t have known about Peter’s past. Hell, they were in a bar for god’s sake. To Wade, all this made sense. It didn’t occur to him what what he was actually saying meant to Peter. That, and his thought was slightly impaired every time the brown eyed boy looked at him. Jesus, it was like a black hole. Peter had the whole nerdy but hot boy-next-door look down like a science.  

“It’s three in the afternoon…” ‘… _and I’m working. Also, kind of a recovering alcoholic not that that matters or anything,_ ’ Peter mused to himself as both men just looked at Peter as if what he said should make no difference at all.

“Alright guys, you got me. I’m a lightweight.” Peter lied. He was used to lying, especially about this. He’s done it so much before, why stop now? Peter didn’t think anything could stop him from building up his walls. They were miles high by now, and it was better that way.

Weasel rolled his eyes at a grown man not being able to handle a beer and decided to get him a water instead. Wade’s gaze changed from amusement to curiosity, but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared, and Peter didn’t notice it anyway.

“Baby boy, you don't have to lie. I know you're not twenty one yet. So cute. I’m not just talking about those eyes, or that ass. Turn around for me, would you?” Wade made a swivel motion with his finger. Peter just stared at him, the annoyance starting to make its appearance across his features. “Or not.” Wade stood up from the bar as Peter accepted the glass of Water from the redhead. “Come on, let’s sit alone.” Wade nodded over to the booths and let Peter follow him over.

Once they settled into the booth, Peter felt a bit more relaxed.

-*-*-*-*

Wade took a slip of paper from his pocket and slid it across the table to the younger man. The note had the information on his next hit scribbled on both sides. The Flannigan’s utilized paper notes when calling out hits a lot so they could destroy the evidence of even asking. Wade was their main guy, but definitely not their only guy.

“This week’s unlucky fuck-a-do is a beloved university professor with some sweet, sweet tenure. He also rapes his students.” Wade ran a hand through his short blonde hair.

Peter took the paper and scanned over the information, an eyebrow quirking up. “Why does the mob care about a rapist?”

“Oh he didn’t _really_ rape anyone. My bad. They’re just pinning shit on the sorry bastard.”

“Oh.” Peter held himself back from asking Wade if he was really about to go kill an innocent man.

“I was going to try and help the guy out, but the Flannigan’s _really_ want him dead. Caught him sleeping with the don’s niece.”

“Wha… Is she over 18?” Peter asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“Yep! She’s also engaged to a business partner’s son, so they’re both kind of out for her kinky porn like love affair.” ‘ _God dammit, the kid pushes his glasses up with his knuckle. That’s so fucking cute. Keep it together, Scar Face. Don’t think about his glasses or his messy brunet hair or how he just darted his tongue out over his lips. They’re just dry from the cold.’_ Wade monologue to himself internally. Yeah, he was pretty fucking attracted to Peter and maybe he could get laid from this whole ordeal, but he also knew to put business first.

"Why wouldn't they just lie and report him to the cops?"

"They hate pretty little boy cops with a surprisingly disarming, yet not unwelcome, manly demeanor like yourself, baby boy."

“So then we should get him into the witness protection program.” Peter suggested as he tried to ignore Wade's comments. He often spoke to Peter like this over text, but it was a special kind of treat to see the brunet blushing like that. He was so fucking awkward, this kid. Peter's voice trail off at the end. “He teaches at Empire State?” Wade nodded. “Huh, I graduated from there.”

“What the shit? I didn’t know you were smart! N-NO, that’s not what I meant at all. You look very smart – a-almost too smart. But still sexy. _Really_ sexy AND smart at the same time. Like the one and only Carl Sagan, hallowed be thy name. I just thought cops were pretty dumb. No – _fuck_ – no. They aren’t, I just-” Wade kept digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole he created. Peter just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Thanks, Wade,” the corner of Peter’s mouth quirked up in a very small grin. This seemed to be the most that Wade could coax out of him. It was genuine, but refined as if he were trying not to smile. It was very rare to get a chuckle from him. He seemed so hurt, and maybe he was, or maybe he was just really annoyed by Wade and was too polite to say anything, but Wade was determined to someday make him actually laugh. “You can calm down. I got a biomedical engineering degree before joining the academy. I kind of had a change in life paths, I guess.”

This Peter was really something. He had this whole career path in front of him but decided to help the every-day man instead. It sounded tacky but this kid was just _good_. He was honest, that Wade could tell (except for that lie about being a lightweight he told earlier at the bar which Wade totally saw through. He was a mercenary. It was kind of part of his job to be able to tell when someone’s lying or not.) He wondered for a moment if this kid was anyone’s hero or if he was just stuck pushing papers as a cop.

This was the kind of good Wade was trying to be. He wanted to not only kick his violent as all hell life style, but he wanted to show someone that he could do good by someone, especially _her_. To teach her to be as good as someone like Peter and not someone crazy like himself.

“What brought that on then, baby boy?”

“I dunno. My fiancé…well, my ex fiancé’s father was the police chief at the time and I saw all the crime on the streets and felt like I had to do something. It just felt right.” Peter’s whole tone sounded proud but disheartened when he mentioned his fiancé. Did she break his heart or something? Was it recent? He was still so young, it was amazing to Wade that he had time to get engaged at all.

“Oooh an ex. _Drama_ over here. Did she dump ya? You can tell daddy.” Wade pried, leaning forward on the table like a gossiping housewife. Wade felt almost protective.

“Uh nope. She’s uh…she’s dead.” Peter ignored Wade's daddy comment, not expecting anything different from the older man after their two weeks of text messaging. 

“Oh. Do you still work with her dad?”

“He’s dead too.” Peter looked down at the table. Wade looked over the boy’s features. Shit, he felt bad for prying. He felt bad for making Peter admit this. The kid was so sad and innocent that it made Wade want to know everything about him. Shit.

“Oh… I’m sorry baby boy. That’s the rough shit, isn’t it? Hey, back on subject though,” maybe if Wade drew attention away from it the kid wouldn’t look like a kicked puppy. He could tell Peter was trying to act cool, but he wasn’t actually pulling that off too well. It didn’t occur to Wade that it might also make him seem completely uncaring. Surprisingly, Wade’s plan worked and Peter seemed visibly less tense now that the subject did a 180 back to the original conversation.

“Right, right. Sorry. Witness protection program. We’ll just meet with him early. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?” Peter’s mood shifted somewhat back to normal. This was work, after all. Peter wouldn’t let his private and professional life over-cross again.

“Cool. Yep. Meet you there Friday?”

“What day is it now?”

“It’s Wednesday, Baby boy.” Wade laughed. Man this kid must be really unorganized or really out of it. Wade was starting to think it was the latter.

“Right. I’ll meet you there.”

“Aw, our first date. I’ll wear my nice murder gloves.” Wade grinned, flashing those white teeth at Peter.

"I'll wear my 'stop Wade from murdering' gloves." Peter returned as he started to get up, leaving the note with Wade. Before Peter could get too far, Wade called after him. Wade _did_ love his banter.

“Hey kid,” Wade began, not sure why he was compelled to ask this question at a time like this. Maybe it was because he was just interested in the kid, or he wanted to know if his efforts would be well worth it; if there was merit to looking up to the kid at all in the first place.

“Hm, yeah?” Peter stopped and looked at Wade through his lenses.

“Does it still feel right? This whole cop thing?” Peter was silent for a moment as if contemplating the truth or how to word his answer right.

“hmm... I’m not sure Wade. Nothing really feels right these days.” He stated before crossing the bar and tucking out the door, leaving Wade to his thoughts. Wade wanted to follow him. He wanted answers to his millions of questions, but all he got was an exchange of looks between Weasel and himself, and a clueless shrug.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys! Please please please comment and let me know what you guys are thinking about the story! I'm really interested to hear feedback about characterization, the plot itself, and if the dialogue is okay. The bane of my existence is writing Wade just because I don't feel like I'm doing his colorful vocab justice.  
> Also, if you have any suggestions throw them out there, too!


	3. Empire State

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade run into Peter's old chemistry professor and Ajax throws a wrench in Wade and Peter's "rescue mission."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL. This one is super freaking long so I apologize for that. I almost decided to split it into two chapters but I felt like I could still kind of squeeze it into one.  
> I hope you all enjoy this! I had fun writing this one :o  
> I looooooved the feedback I got on the last chapter, btw. Please keep commenting! I want to write a story all of you enjoy.  
> This chapter has mentions of rape. Nothing worse than in the last chapter, it's really just saying the word but I'm letting y'all know in case anyone is worried about that.

The university’s grey and blue exterior made Peter feel like he was right back at school again, side by side with the love of his life. It was haunting how he still felt her presence whenever he was here. It reminded him of her hair and the dress she wore to his graduation. _God_ , that thing was holy. Peter took a deep shaky breath in. This almost felt  _good_ until the stab of remorse got him right through the gut reminding him that she would have graduated by now if he had just made it to her on time. 

The young man tried to shake the thought. After all, he was here for a reason.

Wade was in the hallway when you come in through the main doors of the administration building, looking over pamphlets and motivational posters. Peter noticed Wade wasn’t wearing his usual hoodie today. He had on some t-shirt and a red flannel coat with a wool lining. Other than that, Wade's appearance remained the same.

Peter heard some passing girls gasping and gossiping to each other about the scars on Wade’s face. Peter wasn’t sure if Wade noticed or not because he didn’t seem to be reacting, but it still made Peter mad. Sure he had some scars, but he didn't deserve that. 

“Interested in planning your future?” Peter said as if he were some online college TV ad, walking up to Wade and looking over the pamphlets with him.

“I’m thinking of becoming a yoga teacher. What do you think? I’m relaxing, right?” Wade grinned, picking up a yoga pamphlet. “Maybe a home decorator.” He picked up another, chuckling to himself.

Peter smiled at this. Still not a full on laugh (or even a chuckle) but a smile was better than nothing for Wade. “Yeah, totally relaxing. You’re not hyper or abrasive at all. Those are hot career moves for ex mercenaries.”

“You know, that’s _so true,_ baby boy. I heard that too.” Wade put the pamphlet in his pocket and the placed his hands on his hips. Peter looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. Peter could detect a great deal of sass from the scarred man. “Well I _did_. I’m not on trial here.” Wade scoffed before turning his full attention to the younger man in front of him. “Alright, baby boy. Where to?”

“You’re asking me? I should be asking you.” Peter was pretty sure knowing where to go was the first step in murdering someone. Who was hiring Wade anyway?

“You’re the one who went here.” Wade bickered back like they were children, and Peter was no exception.

“You were hired to-” Peter stopped to alter his voice to a harsh whisper, “… _You’re the one supposed to gut this guy._ ”

“Ouch, gut? That’s pretty harsh Peter. I can’t believe you’d think so low of me. If he were a rapist I’d definitely cut off his dick.” Wade acted hurt, his hand over his breaking heart.

Peter thought for a moment, “Okay, fair. I’ll just ask someone at the desk where his office is. What’s the guy’s name?”

“Terrance Patterson. Pssh… that name has no flow at all. What were his parents even thinking?” Wade scoffed to himself. “Maybe I should kill him just so he doesn’t have to live with that name anymore.” Wade mused. Peter was like 90% sure he was joking, but with Wade you never know. The man had a tendency to be pretty loopy at times.

The two of them went to the information desk further down the hall to get the office number.

 

 

 

Terrance’s office was unoccupied when Peter and Wade arrived. Neither of them knew when he’d be back, and Peter couldn’t very well just break into his office. Peter leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, looking down the hallway as if keeping watch – as if they were up to something they weren’t supposed to be up to.

Peter didn’t know much about the English department. Most (all except for the basic core courses you have to take) of his courses were in the science and math departments. Hell, he knew more than half of the faculty there either because he worked or studied with them or because he met them through Gwen’s circles.

He wondered if anyone still remembered her. At her funeral two years ago, Peter was able to recognize a lot of faculty present. Peter wondered if she crossed anyone’s mind these days, or if he was the only one. If their love for Gwen ended at the last shovel of dirt in her grave. 

“Earth to Peter.” Wade leaned in close to Peter’s face in a successful attempt to get his attention.

 “What? I don’t know his schedule.” Peter shrugged helplessly and gently pushed Wade to make the distance between them reach comfortable levels again.

“We're breaking in, _duh_. Just had to make sure you were on the same planet as me.” Wade wiggled the doorknob to show that the office was left unlocked. Huh, careless teacher. 

Peter left his place against the wall to put his arm in front of the doorway. “Wade we can’t do that. I’d need to get a warrant.” Peter remembered Captain Hammond saying he got leniency on this case, but Peter wanted to stick as close to the law as possible.

“I’m a criminal, Pete. It’s _fine_. God!” Wade rolled his eyes dramatically and whined like a teenage girl as he started to open the door, when suddenly a voice called out to Peter. The voice was so familiar it felt weird deep in Peter's gut. It’s been about four and a halfish years since Peter was out of school, but it felt like a fucking _lifetime_. Between working on the force, losing all but one member of his amazing family, and going on a year-long bender made those four years feel like a century.

Peter took almost all his chemistry courses with the man approaching him. He was a little taller than Peter, had dark hair and wore a purple button down with black slacks. You could immediately read stress off the man even though he sounded very polite and soft spoken. Peter could notice the age in his face. The man wasn’t old per say, but he was definitely in his 40’s.

“Professor Banner?” Peter smiled. He was happy and it hurt. He loved Banner’s classes, but Gwen did too. Peter spent more time with him than Gwen had, but that didn’t change the fact that Peter was reminded of Gwen even more when he saw him. He came to her funeral, offered Peter his condolences, and that was the last they heard of each other.

“Peter! I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve definitely grown into yourself.” Bruce smiled and pulled Peter into an awkward hug. Peter didn’t linger too long before pulling away. Peter had been taught by and studied with Banner for the last half of his college years. Bruce was somewhat of a mentor to Peter but hadn’t seen Peter since Gwen's funeral. They had kept up with each other for a while up until Gwen’s death. After that, Peter kind of fell off the face of the earth.

“Thanks, Professor. It’s uh... really great to see you too.” Peter scratched behind his head. He felt guilty for dropping Banner like that. Peter never meant to do him like that, but he did that to everybody. Aunt May was the only one willing to break past Peter’s grief and addiction fueled barrier of isolation he built around himself.

“I was worried about you, Peter.” He stated. He wasn’t going to put Peter on the spot, but he hadn’t seen to the man in about two years and all of a sudden he’s back in the halls where he met him.

“I’m really sorry. After Gwen’s death… I went through a lot… I…” Peter felt like he had to explain everything to him right then and there to his mentor.

“It’s alright, Peter. I’m just glad that you’re okay… And who is this with you?”  

“Thank you… Uh this is my partner, Wade.” Peter felt awkward for not including Wade sooner. Wade was just standing in front of the door he was trying to break-in through, his arms crossed watching the whole scene. Peter felt almost embarrassed letting something so personal come out in front of his work partner – especially someone like Wade.  

“Really nice to meetcha, prof.” He shook Bruce’s hand over-enthusiastically, causing Peter to grimace. Wade could be so _annoying_ , and he knew he did that just to poke at Peter.

“Oh, Partners? I’m glad to see you were able to move on, Peter. I had no idea you were-” Bruce smiled politely, causing Peter a moment of confusion followed by a crystal clear realization.

“What? N-No, not that kind of-” Peter flushed as Wade pulled him close by his waist.

“Peter makes me the happiest ugly guy in the whole wide world!” Wade said in a cheery voice, gingerly pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead

“I see. Peter, I must go to my next class. Please feel free to visit my office hours any time. I’d love to catch up.” Bruce shook Peter’s hand, avoiding another handshake with Wade, before heading off to his class. Peter would definitely have to take him up on that. He did miss having people to talk to other than May, and Bruce knew him from when he was still…himself.

Peter didn’t know who he was anymore. Sure, he has settled into a role and a routine but he always felt like he was wearing a costume everywhere he went. It was rare that he felt like he was just organically himself. The only times he really felt like that was with May, but even then it wasn’t like when he was younger. Peter still felt lost and numb and detached. Too many years have been put onto Peter’s psyche. He put on a mask for her on his bad days because he couldn’t bear the thought of her worrying over him anymore, so he acted like he was fine.

“Wade! He thinks I’m with you!”

“What’s wrong with being with me?” Wade acted fake hurt, letting Peter go.

“Nothing! I’m just not gay! I mean sure, Johnny from high school was…alluring at times, but what guy didn’t think _he’s_ attractive? Sure I’ve thought about it but that’s totally normal and I’m just not gay.” Peter was flustered. Why the hell was he flustered in front of Wade of all people?

Wade was quiet for a moment before he burst out into a roar of laughter. Peter’s face went completely red and Wade just laughed even harder, grasping his abdomen for dear life.

“Ooh shit Peter,” He kept laughing, wiping some tears from his eyes. “Sure you’re not. We’ll chock you up to bi-curious, 'kay babe?” Wade let himself into the office letting Peter duck in behind him.

Why the hell was that so funny to him? Peter had never considered himself as anything other than straight. To be fair, he never paid much attention to labels, but Peter has been having sex with women since he was sixteen. It started when Gwen’s parent’s let her get on birth control (aside from going down on MJ one time when her parents weren’t home when he was fifteen). Following Gwen’s death, Peter ( _very_ regrettably) drunkenly hooked up a couple times with different women but never with a guy, ‘ _not that you haven’t thought about it’_ a voice in his head reminded him.

“When I was in high school," Wade started, "I had this history teacher named Mr. Jones who was _fine_. If he were a pedophile, I would totally have let him hit it. Not gonna lie.” Wade looked at the papers on Terrance’s desk.

“Wow Wade,” Peter sighed, admittedly looking at the knickknacks and books himself. Peter tried to imagine Wade in high school. He definitely wouldn’t have been Peter’s friend. Peter was bullied from middle school through high school until he started dating Gwen. Everybody _loved_ her, so Peter got a somewhat free pass (meaning more mean words than violent actions).

Was Wade a bully or did he stand up for the little guy? He probably didn’t have those scars back then. Peter was reading strong punk vibes from Wade's imaginary high school persona. 

“Oh come on, like you never had the hots for a teacher. Everyone has.” Wade nudged Peter with his elbow. Peter had to think on this for a moment. Sure there were some attractive teachers throughout his academic career, but he was so into Gwen that he didn’t put much effort into his fantasies.

“I guess. I was pretty into my fiancé though. Either way, I wasn’t signing up to be statutorily raped.” The brunet shrugged, real quick cleaning his glasses with the fabric of his shirt. 

“Ah, just two different people, I guess.” Wade hummed and looked out the window, his eyes widening. Suddenly Peter could feel a controlled level of panic coming from the blonde.

“Wade? What’s wrong?” Peter put his glasses back on, looking to the older man.

“Oh nothing, just a bag of dicks coming over. He’s such a FUCKING bag of DICKS.” Wade barked, letting what was probably deep seeded rage bubble to the top. Wade ran his hands over his face before looking at Peter, gears turning in his head.

“How is a bag of dicks managing to walk?” Peter snarked, hoping to diffuse some tension though he felt himself worrying as well. Peter had never expected to see Wade look worried like that and this was obviously not according to their plan.

“You gotta hide baby boy,” Wade crossed the space of the office to peek out the door, seeing the foot of the man he’d seen come into view from around the corner of the hallway. He shut the door again. “And fast. You do _not_ wanna mess with this guy, and I can’t have you cramping my style either.”

“Is it someone you work with?”

“Kind of? Depends on the situation. Sometimes we’re working together and sometimes we’re trying to murder each other.” The man was getting closer. Wade grabbed Peter and shoved him in the closet, “Sorry to bring back high school memories for you.” The older man grinned at his own joke and shut the double doors. Peter couldn’t fault him there, at least it was accurate. Peter had been shoved in lockers and closets for almost his entire adolescence. This one just happened to be incredibly full of hard stacks of books and papers.

No sooner did Wade stuff Peter in the closet did he open the door to be apparently face to face with the man he was so scared of.

“Hey Francis! I like that color on you. Is it grey?” Wade was using his flirty voice – one Peter recognized very well – except this one was laced with some type of bitter poison meant only for this Francis guy.

“Ah hello Wade,” the man pretty much growled. Peter could barely see out the crack of the closet door. The man had a hell of a bone structure, a shaved head, and looked like some tacky LA villain complete with the leather jacket and everything. “Good to see nothing has changed with you. You’re still fucking hideous.”

“Well you know me, I try to take pride in my appearance.” Wade said as if he were just complimented at a club. From what Peter could tell so far, this guy was a fucking asshole. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“The boss man asked me to help you on behalf of his son, though I think it’s a bit unnecessary. This is well within your capabilities. After all, I know what you’re capable of.” The man said in his smooth British accent as if it were a reminder.

Shit. This put a wrench in things. They had to get the damn professor out of trouble but now Wade and Peter were stuck. They couldn’t out themselves, but Peter couldn’t let Francis kill the professor either.

“At least someone gives me recognition!” Wade threw his hands up in fake relief.

“Oh shut the _fuck_ up. Do you ever shut up?” the man pushed Wade with his finger to his chest, but Wade grabbed his finger.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Francis. I’m saving myself for marriage.” Wade growled. Peter couldn’t see the door from the crack in the closet, but he heard another man come in – presumably Terrance – before Francis could respond.

“W-What are you men doing in my office? I-Is this… because of Nadia?” The older man couldn’t shake his stutter. The British man put his hands on his hips, revealing the gun strapped to his hip.

“Oh yes. We wanted to talk to you about how you _raped_ the poor girl.” They all knew he didn’t, but Francis wanted to rub in what this man would be remembered for.

“N-No! I didn’t- I would never _ever_ do something s-so horrible to her… I love her!” Francis snickered at this. Wade laughed along with him to keep his cover up, but his heart wasn't in it. Francis was just humiliating the man at this point. Sure, he sounded to be quite a bit older than some college freshman, but they were both legal and everything was consensual. It definitely shouldn’t cost him his life, no matter how creepy it was.

“Do you hear him, Wade? This old sack of shit _loves_ her.” Francis scoffed once more before his features hardened, his jaw clenching. Wade looked unsure of what to do, and entirely on edge.

Everyone was at a pause before the older man _bolted_ out the door, running as fast as he could for dear life, the papers in his arms fluttering in his trail. He must have known who that Nadia girl's family was by the way he was able to guess why Francis and Wade were waiting for him in his office. The Brit looked at Wade, shaking his head in irritation with a blow of air through his nose before following out the door. Wade looked to the crack in the closet door forming some immediate understanding with Peter of what to do next before he ran out the door after the men and Peter rushed at the same speed out of the closet. Pete forced the window open and crawled out. He couldn’t follow them or Francis would know Peter was working with Wade the whole time, so he had to do a roundabout.

His plan was to run into the guy before Wade and the ‘bag of dicks’ got to him first. Peter decided to run around the other side of the building, apologetically dodging and skimming around students as he did so.  Peter’s adrenaline was pumping as fast as his heart rate as he made it through the doors around the back. He had to rely on Wade pulling some kind of magic on his end.

Peter ran down the hallway, coming to a fork in the road. Where were they coming from again? These hallways could get so confusing.

He looked down both ends before he heard a shout come from his left. Terrance turned a corner and was running down the hall and Peter could tell he was still being followed though not as closely as before. ‘ _Great timing, man’_ Peter thought as he intercepted the professor's track and grabbed him with his hand over his mouth, pulling him into the closest office. The room full of clerks gasped at them and stood from their chairs, but Peter was just glad to have snatched Terrance before Francis. Wade must have slowed him down somehow. The hand that wasn’t covering Terrance’s mouth reached to retrieve his badge, flashing it to everybody in the room. Terrance was panicking even more now but Peter shushed him.  
“Everybody stay calm! Go back to what you were doing. There are two very dangerous men out there.” Peter ducked under a table covered in pamphlets that was against the wall to stay out of view through the window with the older man, still clutching down on his mouth as he caught his own breath. He heard Wade and Francis running past, stopping; presumably looking around unsure of where to go (though Peter couldn’t really tell from under the table).

Peter counted his lucky stars that the clerks sat down and tried to act natural once they saw Peter and Terrance’s pursuers. After a few moments of waiting in incredibly tense silence (except for the panting), Peter let go of Terrance’s mouth. “Are they out there?” Peter asked one of the women at the desk, wiping the inevitable spit on his jeans.

“N-No, the bald one yelled at the ugly one and they left.” She was worried and confused, but still relaxed enough to sit back in her chair.

“He’s not that ugly.” Peter sighed and slouched back against the wall under the table, finally relaxing. These people these days were so judgmental.

“Uh…yeah he is.” She said and Peter could almost hear the eye roll in her voice.

“T-Thank you so much… I-I-” Terrance was panting and clutching his chest. Peter gave him a pat on the back.

“Hey, no problem buddy. I’m gonna get you the best protection there is, just… pick and choose, ya know? Pick and choose.” Peter finally felt safe enough to crawl out from under the table with the professor, dusting off the back of his pants. He took out his phone and called the police station to bring by a car before texting Wade to meet him at a nearby café that evening.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! BTW I probably didn't write Bruce all that well but I don't know if he'll be coming back later. He might - and if he does I mayyy look into how to write him well. Their encounter was entirely Peter driven anyhow.  
> Felt a lot better about Wade's dialogue this time around. Writing Francis with Wade makes it feel way more natural because they play off each other so well (I really enjoyed him in the movies :o)  
> Don't forget to comment!


	4. Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds out about Wade's daughter and confronts him about it to maintain a level of trust between them; sad May scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this is a little late! I had a bit of writers block going on and the original chapter I wrote was 100% different than the final product so it underwent a lot of revision. 
> 
> ALSO: I want everyone to know I'm back to college next week so I'll be slower. I have to really buckle down with my classes this semester to strengthen my chances of getting into an engineering program next year. My priorities will be school>boyfriend>fics.   
> But honestly I'm loving writing this (even if it's prob not the best out there because it's still just my first) and I'm really determined to finishing this through. 
> 
> Let me know if there are any gaping plot holes (i don't think there are) and please leave some comments! I love reading them and I take all feedback seriously!

The office was slow this early in the morning. Peter’s cubical blocked out the different shades of light that were able to pour through the window across the room. His desk was covered in paperwork that needed to be filled out and signed before the end of the day (“Or ELSE, Parker!”). Despite what Peter foolishly thought, the promotion didn’t cut the amount of paperwork he had to do - it increased it. It felt like high-school busy-work all over again (only maybe it was  _ a little _ more important.).

The coffee meet-up was a no-go last night due to some personal reason on Wade’s side. It wasn’t like Peter to pry past people’s boundaries, so he left it at that. Everyone has obligations, anyway, so Peter wasn't going to stress about it.

Terrance was successfully taken into the witness protection program late yesterday evening. The whole process took hours but Peter was there with Terrance the entire time even when he didn’t need to be. He wondered if George Stacy would be proud, about what Gwen would think of Wade and him working together. She always worried for Peter (and her father) when they'd go to work. She'd flip if she found out he was working with a mafia involved mercenary. Aunt May would definitely have some interesting things to say about him – but probably all kind things; the kind of things that make you think differently about every person you meet. May had a way of completely shifting someone’s views on people and the situations they come from.

The task at hand seemed to go on for hours and Peter didn’t think he’d ever be able to get out. All he could see was black and white and subtle errors in his handwriting (there wasn’t enough white-out in the world for Peter’s paperwork skills).

The trance-like work sequence came to an abrupt close by the presence of a hyper-masculine Texan standing at Peter’s desk, arm over the cubicle wall. Captain Hammond wore his usual white button down with gun holsters and slacks, very similar to how Stacy used to wear his. Peter nudged his slipping glasses up his nose as he made eye contact with the man. How long had been standing there?

“Is there something you need, sir?” Peter had already given report for yesterday to the older man, so he wasn’t sure what he needed right now. Did he leave something out? Make an error?

“I just wanted to talk to you about how you and Wade are working together. I didn’t think to ask you in our meeting before.”

“Oh. Uh, we’re fine I guess. He’s pretty cool. Really helpful.” Peter scratched behind his ear with his pen. Not very descriptive, but it’s all he could think of. The sex jokes and banter wasn’t relevant to the case at all. “He cancelled a meeting last night but it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Yeah, I know that. Something came up with his daughter.”

“Wha- He has a  _ daughter _ ?” Now this he didn’t expect. With the lifestyle Wade’s been living – how does a child fit into the mix? Was this the secret he was keeping from Peter? For someone who talked about being a ‘daddy’ all the time, it caught Peter off guard that he actually  _ is _ a daddy. Well, a father. Probably a daddy to some people.

Then it clicked – Peter isn’t supposed to know this. Trust: breached.

“Oh…..shoot. He didn’t tell you yet, huh?”

“Uh no?” Peter looked at him expectantly. How this man spilled what is most likely Wade’s biggest secret is beyond Peter and is honestly a little disappointing. A little empathetic anger bubbled up in Peter, more of an offended brand of it though.

“Right. Well uh, it was part of the deal we struck that led to your partnership with him. He is selling out the Flannigan’s in exchange for the chance to properly raise his daughter once he’s out of the industry.” The industry of killing people for cash. The older man scratched at his mustache. Peter could see the tension in his shoulders when he found out he just spilled the beans on Wade.

So the reason Wade wanted to completely change the lifestyle he’s been living for almost his whole life is to protect his little girl. How old was she? Was Wade with anyone? Peter didn’t recall Wade mentioning anyone – in fact he hits on Peter all the time. Still, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything – Wade could totally have a girlfriend or wife off somewhere. The man had seven years on Peter so it wasn’t improbable.

The problem was whether or not he should tell Wade he knows or not. He didn’t want to lie to Wade, but he didn’t want the possibility of ever building a trust with the man to flutter out the door either – or scare him away from working with the cops. Hell, he hoped Wade wouldn’t want to kill Hammond over this.

“That’s really commendable of him,” Peter stated, wanting to make Hammond think as well of Wade as possible. Wade was just a good man who did bad things. Coming from a parentless family and being raised by two of the most amazing human beings on the planet, Peter greatly appreciated a good parent – especially a good father. While Peter didn’t know the entire situation, he knew Wade was making an incredibly dangerous sacrifice for the girl and was risking a lot just to keep her safe and happy. Going to the authorities at all with confession of all his crimes was a huge risk by itself, not to mention untangling himself from the organized crime and gun-for-hire industries.

The older man patted his hand on the wall of the cubical. “I’ll be seeing you, Peter. And don’t tell him I told you. I don’t want to be on a mercenary’s bad side.” He went back to making his rounds around the office.

‘ _ Maybe you shouldn’t swing his secrets around willy-nilly then,’ _ Peter thought before continuing his endless paperwork. The thought of Wade being a dad and what his daughter must be like wouldn’t exit Peter’s head. Seeing as how he was the must adult themed person Peter knew, it would be interesting to see how his daughter turns out. He also felt increasingly guilty for just knowing the one thing Wade didn’t want him to know. At least, he didn’t think there was anything else Wade was hiding.

Peter took out his phone to text Wade. Hopefully he wouldn’t still be busy today. Trust was going to be a big thing for them if they were going to tackle a fucking organized crime syndicate and he didn’t want to squash that kind of relationship or opportunity.

After another hour of paperwork (which was now officially and finally finished) he still hadn’t heard from Wade. The man was probably still busy with his daughter still – or maybe work. It must be hard for him to make time for anything in the midst of all the things he does, so Peter wasn’t expecting a quick response (despite Wade’s history of them).

Peter took his free-time to visit his aunt, as he usually did. It was what he always looked forward to at the end of the day. Her gossip and stories were like a breath of fresh air, but most of all he just enjoyed the time he had with her. That in and of itself was priceless.

Per routine, checked by her house on his way there. When the doctors said she’d be in the hospital for an extended amount of time, they were at a loss of what to do for money. Peter made money, sure, but not enough to support two sets of bills. The utilities in her house were the first to go in the interest of saving money but he still had to pay her medical bills. He didn’t want her to have a lot of debt to worry about when she got out.

Peter had enough to pay his own bills (including student loans), some food, and her bills – but barely, even when he was working over-time as he often did. He was considering selling his car soon. He lived in a city full of public transport plus he could coast around in a cop car if he really wanted to, so it’s not like he needed it. It was actually Gwen’s car that Peter inherited. That’s probably the only reason he’s kept it this long in the first place – sentimental value.

Once arriving to the hospital, Peter was greeted by nurses who knew and adored him from his daily visits. To them he was the sweet, handsome young police officer who doted on his sick and elderly aunt. While it was a different section than where May used to work, a lot of the nurses knew May from just seeing her around the hospital in her scrubs and white sneakers.

After the doctor’s promising words from his last visit, he expected to see aunt May walking around her room, being happy and bubbly as she often was when she was healthy. Instead he saw a tired and weak version of his aunt in her bed with the curtains drawn and all the lights off. Peter had walked in on this enough times in the last three months to know this meant she had a migraine. Peter knocked lightly on the doorframe.

“Hey aunt May….How are you feeling?” Peter said in a quiet voice, not wanting to disturb her too much.

“Oh Peter, I feel just awful.” She said, her voice was like a cracked whisper. It sounded dry, so Peter got her a glass of water as soon as he passed the threshold of the room. Her features were tense and drawn in in pain and her eyes remained closed even when Peter placed the glass of water beside her.

“You should drink this. Throat sounds dry,” he whispered, taking a seat next to her bed. It hadn’t moved since he was last there.   

This is what hurt the most, and what Peter believed he deserved. Seeing his aunt – his  _ mother _ in this helpless and excruciating pain. It was times like this when Peter forgot the notion that she was ever going home and replaced that with the thought that he was watching her die slowly every single day.

“I thought the doctor said you were going to be leaving soon. Did something change?” The broken hope in his voice was more apparent than he had meant for it to be, causing May’s face twitch in remorse. She still hasn’t reached for the water. She was hurting too much.

May resented the pain that came with this illness. She wasn’t young anymore and she knew she wasn’t longed for this world after her first heart attack, but the pain she had to go through in the hospital was brutal. That being said, nothing was worse than knowing how Peter would (or wouldn’t) be able to cope with what was going on. May didn’t fear death, she feared for Peter’s life after she was gone. Already, he wasn’t able to cope with the loss of Gwen. He tries to hide it from her but she knew he still wasn’t over it; that he hasn’t accepted it, hasn’t made any new friends to her knowledge.

She’s been around the block enough times to know exactly where Peter would go after her expiration date came and went.  

“These things fluctuate, dear. One day you’re good and the next you feel like this.” She whispered, her hand patting around on the bed looking for Peter’s, which he gladly gave her.

“I’m really sorry Aunt May… Do you want me to get your doctor?” Peter spoke softly, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

“No… They already put pain killers in my IV. I need a favor from you.”

“What do you need?” Peter would do literally anything for her. All she had to do was ask.

“Just speak quietly but tell me about your day.” She whispered with a small soft smile to which Peter gladly obliged. Soon her the rise and fall of her chest evened out and the muscles in her face relaxed. She was asleep and that’s all peter could ask for right now: a break from the pain.

The gravity of her condition set in like a crushing force, forcing tears to fall down his cheeks. Talking to the doctors wouldn’t help, as she said. They were doing everything they could for May and Peter knew that which is why everything felt so hopeless. Even with all these trained medical professionals giving her the best care she could get she  _ still _ felt like shit. She  _ still _ wasn’t getting better.

Stay positive. Stay positive.  **_Stay positive_ ** _. _

This mantra was like breathing to Peter on most nights. On those nights when he felt as if his life were draining with May’s – like the deaths of his parents, uncle, would-be father-in-law, fiancé, and loss of his friends and family each took a part of the guy Peter once was with them and May was the final piece to Peter’s ultimate destruction.

Peter didn’t want to actually acknowledge that he does this, but he often fantasizes about buying a funeral plot and dying. He didn’t really specify if he wanted to kill himself, or just let the world take him as soon as it was ready; He just knew he wanted to be with his family again. The presence of those kinds of feelings were a pretty strong indicator that he needed therapy and Peter wasn’t sure he was ready for that. Everybody contemplates death, but Peter can’t help himself from leaning closer and closer to the edge. Still, he buries them. They are 3am thoughts when he can’t sleep, they are the bus that came late, they are ‘my aunt is dying,’ they are failing on a case.

A well-known chime started sounding from his pocket, which he responded to quickly to keep the noise from waking May up, not even bothering with caller ID.

Peter stepped into the bathroom attached to her room before speaking, “Hello?” Peter’s voice was gravely and came from deep in his throat. When he could, Peter tried to sound like he  _ wasn’t _ just crying when he answered cellphone calls, but he wasn’t playing it off as cool as he thought he was this time around.

“Uh…Hey baby boy. You okay?” The voice on the other end was Wade’s; low but always a little softer than Peter expected.

“What? Yeah- No yeah I’m great.” Peter tilted the phone away to clear his throat before bringing it back, “What’s up?”

“That was convincing as hell. Not really,” No one ever said Peter was a good liar, “Anyway, I’m sorry I’ve been getting’ busier than a full-time prostitute. Wanna get some roof-tacos?”

“What are roof-tacos?”

“Tacos… on the roof. Do you need training wheels, Pete?” Peter could hear Wade groan from the other end of the line.

Peter chuckled over the line, wiping the last of the water from under his eyes, “Yeah. That sounds good. Text me where, I’ll head over now.”

“Kay kiddo. Make sure you bring that ass with you. Oh! And that smile,” Peter could practically hear the grin on Wade’s face before he hung up to send Peter the address. The tears on his face were easily washed away with a splash of cold water and a pat dry from the hand towel.

On his way out, he stopped by his aunt’s bedside to kiss her forehead goodbye for the day. The pain in her features was finally gone enough and he could tell she was deep in her sleep. This at least gave the young man a soft smile – to see her pain end for the day.

As he approached the door, he heard her say “I love you, Peter…,” mumbling in her sleep before turning over.

“Love you too Aunt May,” He replied softly before leaving to meet Wade.

___________________

Getting to the top of the apartment building was a feat to be reckoned with – mostly because it seemed so unnecessary at the time. Why did they have to meet on a god damn rooftop? Why not a restaurant or a food truck or something on ground level, not that Peter wanted to sound lazy but climbing seven flights of stairs for tacos seemed like a bit much. At the top he could smell the tacos wafting in the wind from next to Wade who was sat on the edge of the roof looking out at the skyline. The first thing Peter noticed about him was how broad his shoulders were and how the golden hour was playing up his blond hair. Jesus, was it already that late?

“What’s up, Wade,” it was more of a greeting than a question. He pat wade on the shoulder before sitting next to him. There was a bag full of food on the other side of Wade that Peter eagerly wanted to get his hands on.

“You’re looking delicious today, baby boy! Damn. Almost like a man-boy. Wait, like a baby man!” Wade smirked at Peter who once again felt awkward under his gaze. That kind of sexually charged focused attention went out the door when Gwen died. Jennifer from the front desk didn’t count because she did that with ever body and Peter is pretty sure Wade’s comments would result in a sexual harassment claim somewhere down the line.

Not to mention, Wade’s smile was surprisingly charming. His teeth were pretty mu h perfect, especially considering how often he should be getting them knocked out in his line of work. Maybe he had great dental insurance. Like, the best dental insurance. Peter’s mouth twisted into a lopsided grin in response to Wade’s charm like a deer in very handsome headlights, which totally shouldn’t be affecting him at all – much less like this. He felt like an awkward high-schooler in front of his unachievable crush again.

“Thanks, I guess.” Peter shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“You guess!? Bullsnap. You’re a total babe, babe. The ass alone is a 10. An 11, if I’m being honest. But the rest of you is stunning, kiddo! You should probably eat some more though. I like to fatten up my future meals if you know what I’m saying,” Wade wriggled his eyebrows as he handed Peter a silver-wrapped taco.

“I really don’t know what you’re saying. Like, most of the time.” Peter chuckled and gratefully accepted the food. Judging by the brown paper bag this taco came from, it was going to be incredibly greasy. He analyzed it carefully before opening the foil and taking a bite and jesus. Jesus Christ. This was amazing. Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath in response to the flavor on his tongue. “This is. Amazing.” It was the best comfort food for a day like today.

“Right!” Wade beamed, starting on his own taco (but not his first considering the amount of wrappers next to him). “SO what did you need to talk about?” Peter suddenly felt his stomach turn in knots. The strength of their relationship from here on out was hanging by a thread, and Peter didn’t know how it would all go down considering he’s only known Wade for about three weeks. He was afraid that their work relationship and admittedly budding friendship would be tossed on the rocks over this breach of trust.

“Oh, uh…Okay. You can’t get mad. I mean, you can but please don’t.” Wade’s expression became more serious than before, reading Peter uncomfortably close. The questioning gaze of a mercenary isn’t what you want to be under. “So I was at work doing paperwork, like a  _ ton _ of paper work, and Hammond came over and started askin about how we work together and-“

“You told you you’re in love with me?” Wade was joking but he still held the serious tone and features, as if trying to ease the tension between them. That mixture in and of itself was funny to Peter’s anxious gut.

“No, I-“

“You told him you wanna fuck me?”

“Wade, no. He told me-“

 

“That he wants to watch us fuck on your desk right now?”

“No! He told me about your daughter, Wade!” Wade got quiet at this and the way he clenched his jaw.

“Are you clowning me right now?” His voice was like a growl and his eyes became incredibly dark.  _ Shit _ . This was it. Wade was either never going to trust Peter, kill him, kill Hammond, or any combination of the three.

“He let it slip that… you have a daughter. I know you don’t want me to know, but I do and I didn’t want to hide it from you.” Peter swallowed, not breaking eye contact with Wade even though he was scared shitless. Not of what Wade would do to him, because Peter was always packing, but because he was scared of what it would mean for them (and maybe for Hammond’s life).

“That fucker. I knew that Texan mother  _ fucker  _ would do me like this. God dammit!” Wade threw a taco against the brick wall of the neighboring building which, if this weren’t a tense discussion, would be kind of hilarious. “Peter, listen. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before but you can’t tell  _ anyone _ . It was nothing personal – in fact I was planning to tell you really soon but I can’t have her in danger.” Wade rubbed his hands down his face then rubbing at his temples. All of this was likely giving Wade a headache for the ages.

“Wade please trust me when I say I won’t tell anyone. I don’t want her in any kind of danger, either. In fact, I told you I knew because I  _ want _ you to trust me. I’m not going to lie to you, man. Ever.” Peter promised and before he could stop himself he held out his pinky finger, and then realized how fucking stupid it looked. Wade just looked at him and his finger and snorted, wrapping his pinky around Peter’s in an iron-clad pinky promise.

“You’re a fucking nerd, Peter Parker.”

“Fuck you, Wade Wilson.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

Once the moment of pinky holding ended, both men looked out to the scenic view of a New York City sunset, not talking, just enjoying the scenery and each other’s company.

“I really appreciate you telling me about this, Pete. I’m not mad at you. I am probably going to murder Hammond though.” Peter just nodded at this, eyebrows shifting up his face but otherwise neutral about the comment.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t actually kill him. But I get it.”

Silence fell between them again. This is the most connection Peter has felt with anyone in a long time. Wade was a murderer, but if Peter didn’t know any better he’d swear he was harmless. There wasn’t violence in his eyes, just a longing for peace.

“I threw a taco at that wall.” Their attention went to the skid-trail of cheesy taco fillings down the wall and the debris on the ground below them, and Peter couldn’t help himself. He just started snickering, which turned into full on laughing. [[And if this were Wade’s POV, he would say it’s the most beautiful damn laugh he’s ever heard.]]

“What?! You can  _ laugh?! _ What the shit!” Wade nudged him, a huge grin on his face, “I learn more and more about you every day!” Peter couldn’t stop laughing, it was like the dam breaking loose.

It had been a long time since Peter laughed like this. His life has pretty much just been dwindling downwards for the last few years and it’s been hard to find joy or happiness in anything, much less enough to elicit this kind of reaction. Figures the dirty talking mercenary would do the trick.

 

“Oho my god, Wade, ” Peter wiped a tear from his eye, “I haven’t laughed like that in years. Thanks for that.” A dumb happy grin was still plastered on his face, but Wade’s faltered.

“We’ll have to keep it going then, baby boy. You can tack that on the pinky promise.”

“Thanks…” the both of them got quiet again, thinking about the weight of what Peter had said. Not laughing in years is a big no-no. Peter hadn’t meant to sound so awkward about it and ruin the moment, but he did as usual. “…Are we friends?”

“Duh.” Wade grinned and pinked Peter’s cheek, who flinched away from it but really didn’t mind it at all.

As the sun retreated, the light around them turned to a dark orange. The city that never sleeps kept them company with the bustle and traffic below, Wade was giving Peter someone to actually talk to and joke with like he hasn’t in years, and all Peter could smell was tacos and smog and a hint of fresh air (which was hard to come by in New York).

 

Peter liked this.

 

He liked it a lot. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it! Please don't forget to leave a comment on your way out! I love to know what you think!


	5. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Peter and Wade visit one of Wade's friends, they get caught in the heart of an attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy. Fucking. Fuck.   
> This chapter was so difficult to pin down. I wrote the chapter like three times before completely scrapping it and writing a new version, edited that a bunch, and scrapped that one. This draft came out a lot smoother and I want to rip my hair out slightly less.   
> So, sorry for the lateness. 
> 
> Part of why I was so stuck is because I'm shit at writing action-y sequences. I'm just not sure how to write them or what kind of situations to put our boys in, so if anyone has ANY suggestions AT ALL, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

It was an early day for young detective Peter Parker, and it would follow to be a long one.

 

Even though Peter's main case was the Flannigan's, he still helped with other cases in the office which occasionally brought him to the office at around 5:30am some mornings. A case on grand-theft-auto turned into hours of paperwork and phone calls.

 

Not to mention, Peter was working as much as he could lately to keep up with the pile of medical bills forming on his coffee table. 

 

While paperwork could bog him down, knowing that he was helping the people of New York got him through a large part of the monotony. The morning crew was fun to work with, too. They were kind of cliquish, but Peter was actually pretty glad about that. He was able to get along with most of them while still keeping them at a comfortable distance. It was a mutually superficial comradery.

 

Aside from passing comments and friendly greetings, they usually left him alone. In fact, Hammond was probably the person he spoke to most aside from Jennifer at the information desk downstairs. That was fine. It wa precisely by Peter's design; It's how he wanted it.

 

Even now he was still earning back favor that he lost during his year long mission to self destruction. While he barely managed to make it through the fire still employed, his reputation tanked from exemplary to disgraceful. Sometimes when Joan and Leslie would compliment him or greet him, Peter couldn't help but think back to how differently they treated him back then and the things they would say, especially when they thought he couldn't hear them.

  
  


_ "I mean he's really fallen off the deep-end. What cop comes to work still half-drunk? He's going to get someone killed like that." Joan, the stocky latina cop from L.A. leaned against the wall by the water cooler. It wasn't as out of hearing range as they thought it was from Peter's desk, but he wasn't going to stop him. Why should he? This is what he created for himself. He made his bed, now he was going to lay in it. _

 

_ "Yeah, or himself. It's sad, seeing him get like this. It is, but he's become so reckless that he just- he just shouldn't be here. Not to mention, he's such a little asshole now." The blonde woman, Leslie, replied before taking a sip from the small white cone in her hand. _

 

_ Peter's eyes darted to the photo of Gwen on his desk, and the wilted sympathy flowers from weeks ago that still sat propped against her photo as dead as she was. Just another reason to drink, he thought. They'd never understand. Gwen's family doesn't understand, they're moving upstate and away from Peter. All the years he spent with their family and they can't stand him anymore. They lost Gwen too, but they didn't have to see it. It wasn't their fault. They don't understand. _

 

_ May doesn't understand. Peter knows he breaks her heart every single day. He knows what he's putting her through but he can't stop. She keeps sticking with him, despite how much Peter just wanted to fucking die already. To put everyone out of their misery, or maybe just himself. She was the closest to understanding. After all, they lost Ben together. She understands the loss, but not the way Peter desperately needs to keep himself suffocated. The way alcohol makes him feel. That, she doesn't understand.  _

 

_ His coworkers don't understand. At least Mary Jane and Harry are honest enough to just not care. They see a tragic man who just needs to 'get over it already.' As outsiders, they think the pain should have subsided already but every morning it takes on new shapes with the same intensity; the same level of hellish remorse. The drinking numbs it, at least. They don't understand. _

 

The memory always ends there, an image of two once beautiful living things that only reminded Peter of the moment in time when his future died.

 

May wanted Peter to focus on the good things at the office, and there was a lot to be grateful for. He was grateful to be forgiven and to still have the job at all. Maybe it was the fact that he actually slept a full eight hours last night, but he actually felt pretty good this morning. On the up-and-up as May would say.

 

She said that about everything.

 

"There you are! This place is a fucking maze! No wonder nothing gets done around here. Ammiright?" A loud voice bellowed behind him, and despite what the rest of the unit might think of the man's brash comments, Peter couldn't stop the corners of his lips from turning up. Before Peter could turn around, Wade had grabbed his chair and swiveled him around to face him.

 

For a minute, Peter rummaged through the unorganized file cabinet that is his brain to find out if he and Wade had plans today, or if there was some special reason Wade was here that Peter may have forgotten about. Nothing turned up, so this must be a spontaneous visit, not that Peter minded. 

 

Helping on cases and filling out paperwork was fulfilling, but Wade was just  _ fun _ . Hell, he was exciting. He was energetic and complex and adventurous and right now Peter felt like the end-of-the-day school bell just rang.

 

This was the first time Peter's been so close to Wade, who was currently leaning over Peter in his chair and completely disregarding personal space. 

 

Wade's scars were even more gruesome up close, but for Peter, they seemed to be overshadowed by the blue in his eyes. The brunette was full on grinning now (making a match with Wade's), his embarrassment all but tossed at the wayside. Being this close had him feeling like a deer in headlights, nerves playing into the size of his smile. 

 

"Oh, hello sir. What can I do for you today?" The younger man didn't budge. He just leaned back comfortably in his chair, eyes not leaving Wade's. His voice remained calm and professional as if a stranger marched up to his cubicle instead of a familiar ex(almost)-mobster. 

 

"Don't get cheeky with me, buttercop. L-O-L, butter _ cop _ . I'm totally gonna think about that tonight when I-"

 

"Excuse me sir, you need to sign in if you're going to be here," Leslie chimed in, her arms crossed over her narrow chest. Judging by Wade's appearance, Peter couldn't necessarily blame someone who wasn't aware of their arrangement for being suspicious of him. Just a hoodie and jeans, scars all over his face and hands (hands being the only other part of him you could see. Definitely looks suspicious.

 

But what does he do during the summer? He must be roasting if he wears clothes like this year round. Peter couldn't imagine him without a jacket on. 

 

Peter tore away from the gaze to bring his attention to the older woman next to his desk, "He's okay Les, he's-"

 

"His boyfriend!" Wade boasted, basking in the glow of his own lie.

 

"Why do you keep doing that…" Peter rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

 

"O-Oh, Peter I'm sorry, I didn't you that you were uh… well either way, I'm glad you found someone to help you move on from Gwen," For some reason, that dropped Peter's heart through the floor, followed by the spirit in his eyes. Move on from Gwen? Was that even possible? How can you find someone you want to spend the rest of your life with and be satisfied with anyone else? How can you watch your fiance die and think you even  _ deserve _ to be happy with anyone else?

 

Wade pulled Peter up and wrapped his arm around his shoulder, his attempt to kiss Peter's cheek was thwarted by the brunette pushing his face away.

 

"Well we'll be going now. Thanks for the awkwardness! And the warm welcome," and that's when Peter was dragged away from his work.

 

"What's the deal? I was doing paperwork," Peter argued, ungluing his side from Wade's in the stairwell.

 

"Don't say that again, baby boy. That was super lame and  _ because _ I like you, I'm going to ignore it. You're welcome" Peter just whirled an eyebrow at him, "ANYwho, we're going to have fun!"

 

"Fun? Really Wade?" The men made it down to the lobby and went to the elevators to their left.

 

"Yes fun! You especially need it after that whole Gwen comment. Was that your fiance?" Peter pressed the down button to get to the garage.

 

Peter nodded, "Yeah she was. So?"

 

"Soooo you looked like a kicked kitten. Like that horribly-fucking-adorable crying cat that I keep seeing on Facebook memes." Peter didn't look moved by this, "Ugh! Would you feel better if I told you this is for work?"

 

"That would definitely help your case," Peter sighed, trying to shake off the attention on the negative aspects of his past. He tried to keep those things as close to home as possible. It was one thing for memories to haunt him, and another to be reminded of them in the real world. 

 

"Well good. Cos it is. We're going to see an old friend of mine," Wade grinned, holding the elevator door open for the younger man before following him in.

 

The car ride consisted of lots of backseat driving, horrible directions, and implausible stories from Wade's past. Still, all that was better than the prying questions about Peter's post-Gwen love life. Wade got Peter to admit to hook ups (which were only when he was completely and utterly shit faced, but he didn't include that detail) but never dating since her death.

 

The fact that anyone else was even in his car, which used to be her car, was foreign to him. The only person to be in here besides him in the last year and a half was May. Peter kept it clean, not feeling like it was really his in the first place. Despite getting it inheriting it from her, he still just thought of it as Gwen's car.

 

Apparently Wade was choosing to be incredible non-descript about who they were going to see. All he'd say is "Oh, it's just Bob. You know,  _ Bob _ ?" and Peter couldn't help but think Bob was a made up name.

 

Wade's crude and last minute directions brought them to the same exact hospital that May was at, which  _ couldn't _ be a good sign. Peter felt the anxiety creep in a few blocks away when it hit him where they were going. The cop just hoped that this wasn't gonna end poorly for anyone - that it really was just an innocent visit.

 

Bob's room was on a different floor than May, thankfully. He was still in the E.R. Nothing against Wade, but Bob seemed like the most plain and boring guy he's ever seen, despite clearly being a double agent from Hydra, based off his account of how he got himself landed in the hospital with two broken legs and a few gashes to the torso.

 

"It's true, Wade! You know I wouldn't lie to you. I was hit by Hydra after I was investigating them for all those months. That's why I was on all those projects with them," 

 

"Of course you didn't do anything for Hydra, Bob. You don't gotta tell me that. I just didn't hear anything about an extended undercover mission with Hydra, is all. Figured you'd tell a guy." Wade was pacing across the room, from the bathroom to the window and Peter could only think one thing: There was no reason for him to be here. At all.  It was just old friends catching up + Peter.

 

Still, this was an interesting look into Wade's life - how willing he is to deny the possibility that his friendship with Bob is one sided. 

 

No, no it's not, Peter's wrong about that. Only his loyalty is one-sided. A subjective relationship.

 

Another thing Peter is noticing is the level of protectiveness Wade had for him, so not only is he loyal, but he's entirely genuine with pure intentions. His partner isn't there for Bob because he's getting anything out of it, especially considering how Bob is lying right to his face (whether Wade realizes it or not); he's there because he cares about him.

 

Wade was a man who deeply cares, even when he acts like he doesn't. Even when you wouldn't expect it. 

 

He could also tell by the way he was pacing the room that he had a lot of stored up energy for this and took to pacing probably as an anxious tick. So weird, how similar people were. Even someone who exudes confidence (despite the self-deprecating jokes) and strength still had an anxiety that they had to vent by some means.

 

That's all Peter can judge from the situation from his chair in the corner of the room. He felt all too much like an observer, not to mention self-conscious.

 

"What do you think, Pete?" Attention was suddenly on him. Peter's eyes darted up to meet Wade's, being brought out of his impromptu analysis. He must have zoned out again. This was common for Peter since Gwen's death. He was always just so….detached from what was going on,  _ especially _ after all the drinking. He often felt like there was a layer of glass between him and what he was seeing - what was happening around him - that everything just happened around him, but never touching him.

 

"Oh, uh - I didn't catch that. Sorry," The brunette shifted in his seat, looking between Wade and the bedridden man. Before anything else could be said, the lights in the room and even the lights in the hallway flickered on and off before settling on off.

 

"That's not a  _ great _ sign," Bob shifted up in his bed as well as he could. Commotion rising  outside - nurses and doctors not knowing what was going on, maintenance searching for a back-up generator and for what caused the power shortage in the first place. 

 

The medical equipment, which is powered by a separate power source than the lighting in the building, followed shortly after.

 

Fuck. If this power shortage went up a few floors…. Peter had to get to May, if he could amidst the terror of the E.R. hallway.

 

This brought Peter up and out of his chair to the doorway. Taking a peek down the hallway revealed anyone with a smartphone having their flashlights on and nurses running to their patient's rooms in any attempt to maintain their condition without the aid of medical machinery. Lives were on the line here, and they didn't even know who or what was causing this yet. 

 

"Is it a storm?" Peter asked the men behind him, his eyes still assessing the hallway. The young cop could feel his heart rate rising, falling back onto steady breathing patterns to keep himself calm.

 

"On a day like today? I'd say that's a no-go on natural disaster, Gideon." Wade joined him by the door, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of the gun he had tucked in the back of his pants.

 

"T-They're here for me, aren't they!?" The man in the bed started to panic, not being able to move due to his injuries and casts, yet still looking for the quickest exit.

 

"That sounds more like it," Wade agreed as women started screaming further down the hallway. It was difficult to see, but through the strobe of flashlights illuminating parts of the hallway, the two men could make out several men (and some women) marching down the middle of the hallway from the direction of the E.R. lobby, every single one of them armed to the teeth and wearing protective gear - bulletproof vests, helmets, combat boots. Their faces were covered by biker helmets with tinted visors. 

 

This was way more than a storm, his was a terrorist attack.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this turned out okay! Please leave a comment because I love reading them and I love the feedback and input, whether it's praise or criticism. This is kind of my practice fic seeing as how it's my first, and I want to get better at writing and capturing Peter and Wade's personalities and dialogue and just general essences.   
> Again, I cannot stress enough how much of a pain it was to write this chapter. 
> 
> General life update, school has been pretty good so far. My Texas Government teacher is this big anarchist guy who loves pointing out how horrible Western society is and how awful white people are and every time he names some horrible thing humanity has done, he goes "Isn't that cool!" It's a very entertaining class.
> 
> Physics is great, and I'm hoping Trig will be too. Last semester was full of a plethora of mental roadblocks that I'm trying not to hit this time around. We'll see how it goes! 
> 
> Thanks for continuing to read this, y'all!


	6. Venting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter get caught by the terrorist group

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long y'all I've been writing somethin else! I wanted a change of pace from that so I'm posting a chapter to this I had apparently already written for-fucking-ever ago. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Thanks guys!

"Jesus Pete, it's so tight in here," Wade groaned, pushing on further, sweat starting to form on his forehead.

 

"Maybe if you weren't so big…" Peter wiped some sweat off his brow as well. His elbows and forearms were starting to hurt from the friction and weight on them. "Come on, move. We're so close..."

 

"Already? I just put it in!" 

 

"Put what in? What are you- god damn it, Wade. I am talking about your shoulders! In these  _ vents! _ " Peter hissed as continued his military crawl through the air vent, Wade following close behind. It was the only way out of Bob's room from the ER without being caught as hostages. They wouldn't be very useful to anyone tied up. Well, unless you asked Wade. 

 

"I think we're here. Be quiet, you know, if that something you  _ can  _ do." Peter stopped his crawling and looked down a vent door below him. The room was empty and they had just spent about fifteen minutes crawling towards the entrance of the E.R. where the group was setting up equipment. The room appeared to be empty at the moment. Whatever this equipment was fore couldn't be good. Pete just hoped it wasn't some sort of explosive. 

 

Peter shifted so his back was against a wall of the vent, struggling to get his jacket off. He couldn't take this anymore, and he didn't know if anyone was about to walk into the room. If the room remained empty for a while, Peter would loosen the grate and jump into try and catch the terrorists from behind, trying to employ the element of surprise. 

 

"Here, this may be the only time you let me undress you." Wade reached his hands ahead and helped pull the jacket off Peter's arms, who let out a tired groan once it was off. The younger man elected not to justify that with a direct response.

 

"That's so much better," Peter was just in his flannel with the sleeves already cuffed up to his mid forearms and jeans now and already he felt less trapped, "I'm gonna drop down and we'll shut this down quick. You sure Bob has the hostage area under control?" 

 

"Totally, well maybe not, he's kind of an idiot," Wade scratched his chin in thought before shrugging the notion away. He'd be  _ finnneeeee _ .

 

"That's great. Real reassuring." Peter rolled his eyes, pushing his glasses up before widdling his fingers between the slats of the vent and shaking it off its hinges before settling it on the path ahead of them within the vent so he could get down. "I'm going to look in first, just to check."

 

"I call the ankles!" Wade grabbed onto Peter's ankles so he wouldn't slip out. The brunette stuck his head down into the room, trying not to think of what Wade was thinking with this view of his ass right now. It was all clear except for, oh - that gun to his head.

 

"Uh, sorry, I just had to vent," In a quick response, Peter dropped his arms down and grabbed the hand with the gun in one hand and hooked the guy in the jaw hard enough to knock him out for a couple minutes with his other, directing the barrel of the gun away from himself as he did so. 

 

When Peter brought himself back into the vent, he shifted so his feet would drop down first. Wade followed close behind, inspecting the disarmed and disabled man on the ground at his feet.

 

"Well look at you, dishing out the one liners  _ and _ knuckle sandwiches. Are you interested in a job in organized crime?" The older man tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie and looked around the room, giving a light kick to the assailant's head.

 

"I do what I can," Peter was immediately drawn to the laptop in the corner of the room, obviously foreign to the hospital. Wade took position behind Peter, leaning over him with his arm on the desk and the other on the chair Peter was sitting on. 

 

The mobster was close enough that Peter could feel his body heat radiating by the side of his face; the kind of heat that you feel all snuggled up on the couch when you're ready for a nap. His heart seemed to give a beat of life that, like the grinch, he hasn't known in years but he tried to just not think anything about it. Instead, he focused all his attention on the computer. It was already logged in, so he didn't have to worry about passwords right now. 

 

The window on the screen seemed to be a map of the hospital, each tab a different floor. First things first, Peter switched to the tab titled 'maintenance floor,' to get an idea of where to turn the generators back on. Next, he made note of all the stairwells and exits available on the ground level so everyone in the E.R. Could escape. "

 

Peter took out his phone and started taking pictures of all the maps, sending them to Hammond with a polite request for back-up, followed by some instructions for why they needed to go to the maintenance level. The longer the generators were off, the sooner patients would start dying off. Peter was running on the assumption that the terrorists, whoever they were, had some sort of way to keep the machines running so they had as few fatalities as possible on their watch, but Peter didn't want the lives of innocent people to be left to the discretion of terrorists. 

 

"What's the background?" Wade asked, pointing to the small rectangle in the bottom right corner of the screen that called up the desktop. Peter clicked it and caught a glimpse of what looked like a red skull with tentacles displayed proudly across the majority of the screen, with black background.

 

"Aw yay! This is going to be so much fun so long as my dear Francis isn't making an appearance." 

Wade stood up straight again and stretched his shoulders and back.

 

"Why are they doing this though? Organized crime is more subtle than this," Peter kept back to the maps, looking for the 6th floor - the one May was on. So help him if some grimey nazi thug was gonna kill his aunt before her illness did. 

 

Wade laughed at this notion, "Hydra isn't exactly known for their subtlety, baby boy."

 

"Still, what do they have to gain from this?" Peter kept typing away at the computer, wanting to take in as much information as possible. Wade just shrugged.

 

"Maybe it's a political thing. They have their hands in  _ many _ cookie jars. Makes the Flannigan's look lazy. Do you even know how many people I've killed for them? They're bad news."

 

"58." Peter just stated. His fingers tip tapping on the keys. Peter has done his research, and he didn't like what he found. He's killed 58 people too many, and that's just under the guise of the Flannigan's. 

 

"Okay smarty pants, well-" Whatever Wade was gonna spit out as a comeback was brought to a halt by a pounding on the door. Peter jumped out of his skin and shut the laptop while Wade drew his gun. "Back in the vents?"

 

"Yeah, and I'm taking this with me. Peter rushes to the entrance of the vent and gave himself a small jump to toss the laptop in the vent before stepping on a chair Wade just pulled over. Peter was half in before the door burst open and several men stormed the room. Wade for a few shots in before receiving one in his hand, causing him to drop his weapon.

 

"AAIIIII Sweet  _ fucking  _ Canada!" Wade cried out. Other men grabbed Peter out of the vent and latched zip ties onto his wrists, pulling nice and tight. A glance to Wade revealed that he was bound as well. Well shit. Peter looked wide-eyed at Wade's bleeding shoulder and the pain on his face. Unsurprisingly, Wade seemed to have a higher pain tolerance than most because he was already breathing steady again. Maybe it was from his special ops training, or maybe it was just from all the times he's been shot in the past. 

 

Wade must have noticed Peter's gaze, because he cleared his throat and gave Peter a reassuring look," Don't worry baby boy, this is my Saturday night." 

 

"Why does that not surprise me?" 

 

"Because you know everything about me like a creepy middle school girl with a crush and a poor sense of personal boundaries," 

 

"Oh yeah, that explains it. Thanks." The men were manhandled up to their feet by the covered man yelling between each other. 

  
  


"Hey hey hey! Easy with the goods!" The man holding Wade's bound wrists smacked him across the face, causing Peter to stir. Not only was Wade getting beat on (although if he'd just shut up they'd leave him alone), but they had a hospital full of patients and staff and families being held hostage with no electricity (although Peter knew that there was some sort of back up generator in the room for the laptop, so they likely installed the same generators in certain rooms to keep the death toll low). 

 

The path to their next location was lined on either side with quivering hostages of all ages, races and backgrounds. Seeing them at the mercy of this nuthouse Hydra operation sparked a flame of adrenaline and determination in Peter. Not that he wasn't determined before, but he wouldn't let anything get in his way now. This is why he took this job - it's what he lives for. 

 

"So where are we headed boys? Are you gonna show us how  _ naughty _ we are?" Wade was still talking (and showed no signs of stopping), and it made the men more and more irritated. 

 

"Wade, shut it. This isn't the time-"

 

"Oh baby boy, it's always the time." Wade sounded more serious now and the man's tone, which is normally jovial, sent a chill through Peter's spine. He knew Wade had an amazing record and his appearance definitely helped his 'don't fuck with me' factor, but he wasn't expecting him to be so naturally intimidating with his voice alone. 

 

"You should listen to him. Seems smarter," one of the goons chimed in, shoving Wade forward causing him to stumble slightly.

 

"Oh he is,"

 

"I am."

 

"But this amazing charm doesn't just shut off, you know what I'm sayin? It's not easy being me!"

 

"What do we do with this guy?" One of the goons asked another.

 

"Toss em in the elevators. We have to shut em down anyway."

 

"Uh, do you mean me too?" Peter chimed in sheepishly. 

 

"Peter! How could you do this to me, baby?!"

 

"Well I don't want to be stuck in an elevator with you!" Peter wasn't trying to me mean, but if Peter could stay out of the elevator he could be a hell of a lot more useful to these people. He had to take advantage of being on the inside. It was a tactic and if he could explain to Wade, he'd do it in a heartbeat. 

 

"Hmm...nah, you better stick him in there too. Don't want him sniffing around anymore than he already has," the other one decided, causing Peter to curse to himself. 

 

And that's how the cop and mobster duo ended up in an elevator not aligned with any floors while terrorists ran a hostage operation in the very building they were in. 

  
This was certainly a hiccup, but Peter was still determined to stick to his objectives: Rescue May, rescue the other hostages and get hat laptop back to the police department. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I'm wondering when I finally kick peter into the gutter of his life. We'll see.
> 
> Please leave comments and feedback! Thanks!


	7. Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade find May and get ready to take charge of the situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Been a while, this and that, yadda yadda. To anyone still actually reading this, thank you! I'll finish it someday.

So, being stuck in an elevator wasn't fun. Being stuck in an elevator  _ in the dark _ wasn't fun. This is something Peter could vouch for. Even fiddling in the control panel wasn't fun or easy, seeing as how he also had his cellphone confiscated meaning no source of light anywhere. Years of engineering courses and he couldn't even fiddle his way around an elevator control panel in the dark. What good was it?

 

"I thought you went to school for this, big boy." Wade was sat in the corner opposite where Peter was, his legs stretched out across the elevator. Hospital elevators were huge which was nice, considering they were fucking trapped in one. 

 

They couldn't just pry the doors open because the goons sent them up just high enough to A - make the drop down deadly and B - make it so that didn't have a doorway to go through. Even if they could get the doors open, they'd just be faced with wall. 

 

"I went to school for biochemical engineering, not to be an electrician." Peter muttered, still entirely focused on the skew of wires and tiny buttons in front of him. It was pretty much useless nonetheless. 

 

"Isn't that the same thing?" Wade groaned, looking up at the ceiling. 

 

"Not even a little bit, Wade." Peter chuckled softly. He was pissed and anxious, but at least Wade got him to smile a little bit before he huffed and gave up on the electronics. They'd probably be safe if they just waited, but that meant nothing for everyone else - especially May. She doesn't have much time left, and Peter isn't going to let her spend it as a hostage. 

 

"I'm betting the ceiling won't work either." Wade mentioned so casually that Peter almost missed it, but if it could open it was actually a little genius.

 

"The-ohhh. You're the best, Wade!" Peter jumped up. He scanned the ceiling as well as he could, squinting his eyes but not seeing anything. "Hoist me up there," Peter held out his hand to help Wade up. 

 

Wade just scoffed, "What am I, your slave?" He grabbed Peter's arm and used it as support to get up. 

 

"Yeah, didn't you know that was part of the deal?"

 

"I guess it was in the fine print. I left my glasses at home that day." Wade knelt down for the brunette to climb on his shoulders, which he did. Peter was strong, and so was Wade - but the way Wade lifted a full grown man on his shoulders and stood up with that extra weight  _ so effortlessly _ was actually pretty impressive. He couldn't pull this off as smoothly as the ex merc just had. "Gotta say baby boy, loving how your thighs feel around my neck. Something akin to physical therapy? Can we do this more often?"

 

"Sure, I'm always down to fight for my life in a stalled, dark elevator. Just name the time and the place." He rolled his eyes and felt around at the ceiling, feeling little crevices between panels but only one had a tiny knob on it. Peter twisted it and pushed up, feeling the stiff air of the elevator shaft. It was pretty fucking dark too, but there was enough light coming through some of the sets of elevator doors up ahead. The lights were off, but Peter remembered that on the first floor, there were light sources coming from portable generators that Hydra had, so maybe that's where those lights came from. It wasn't much, but he could make it work. 

 

"Have we found the land of milk and honey?" The blonde called from below.

 

"If by milk and honey you mean darkness and a childhood fear of heights resurfacing, then yes." 

 

"Sounds fun. Can I go?" 

 

"Oh you will, but I'm gonna check it out first." Peter put his arms through the opening and pulled himself up into the top of the elevator box. 

 

"Hey so, it's dangerous up there and I'm pretty sure it's been established that I'm more badass than you. Shouldn't I be checking it out?" Wade kept his humorous tone, but it was clear that he was also still concerned for Peter. 

 

"Despite that irrefutable fact, you have a daughter at home and I don't. If either of us should tumble to their deaths, it's me." It hurt to hear, and to say on Peter's part, but it was true. Wade had a reason to stick around and it was a big one. Peter was less tethered by anything like that, and it's not like he hasn't thought about dying anyway. His only reason to live was May, and that clock was ticking. In other words, Peter wasn't in a rush to save his own butt over someone else's. Objectively, he was the expendable one. 

 

"Well, lets just make sure you don't do that last part." Wade resigned. He was right. If wade didn't have Ellie, he'd totally take the potential fall, but he wasn't going to leave her an orphan. No way no how. She was the reason for any of this in the first place. She's actually the reason he met Peter at all. 

 

Another look up the shaft and Peter could make up several thick cords, some tight with tension and some slack, hanging from above attached to the elevator shaft. Just as he went to tug on one to test the waters, his partner in not-crime called up. 

 

"Hey!" Peter stopped immediately to look down at Wade who was looking up at them through those big blues. 

 

"What?" 

 

"Help me up, too! I'm no good in here anyway."

 

The officer sighed and reached down, getting in a position that offered him enough leverage to pull wade up through the box with the aid of Wade's awesome high jumping skills. "I gotcha," he grunted once Wade was up. 

 

"Love the view." 

 

"Good one. You like deep black holes?" 

 

" _ And _ shafts." 

 

Peter had to chuckle at that as he went back to testing which cord would be best to climb up. "And shafts." Once he decided on one, he carefully stood to his feet and started to pull himself up. Again, before he got too far, Wade called again as if not wanting him to go anywhere. 

 

"Be careful!" His voice echoed through the chamber.

 

Peter rolled his eyes, "Oh thanks for saving my life. I'll be careful." When he was back in focused-zone, he started his real climb. In high school he was crap at this - this whole rope climbing business, but in the police academy he kicked ass. Gwen had to forcibly stop him from bragging to his old gym teacher about it when he was in the police academy. Said he was too grown for something so petty, but Peter enjoyed the fantasy in his mind nonetheless. 

 

Peter waved at Wade to follow him up, and when he did, he felt a sudden wave of anxiety. He wasn't sure why, but the comparison between this situation and the death of his fiancé was becoming too real. Risk of a fall, blue eyes, blonde hair, could die, attracted to them - and Peter was pretty confused on that last part because honestly Wade is totally just a friend (right?). He couldn't shake that feeling of magnetism between him and Wade and he hated that all these feelings were fighting for dominance in his head. His anxiety made him sweat, his stomach turn with every sway his body made. He just didn't want Wade to fall. He  _ didn't want Wade to fall _ . 

 

The only way to get to the entrance above was to get on a different cord and swing over there to the wall which was  _ goddamn terrifying _ , but Peter was here to play hero and that's what he'd do. Every inch he traveled up the cord, his black dust made streaks on his arm and shirt. 

 

"Hey Peete," Wade dragged out from below, making Peter stop his crawl in case something was terribly wrong.

 

"What? What's wrong?" 

 

"Can we get food after this?" 

 

"Jesus-" he let out a deep breath of relief and groaned, rolling his eyes, "Fine. Yes we can. Let me focus." Peter resumed his travel until he was level with the doors upstairs. He clung on tight to the main cord with his arm and legs and used his other arm to reach out and grab a more slack wire. His whole body was so tense he could swear if someone stuck coal up his ass they'd get a diamond a week later. He really needed to treat himself to a nice romantic evening with his right hand after this. Granted, a partner who wasn't just an appendage of his would be much nicer, but the chances of him finding someone who he wanted to hook up with were slim, and the chances of finding someone to fall in love with were even slimmer. So right hand it was. 

 

Once he tested the security of the cord and how much sway it had, he took a deep and not so calming breath and transferred his weight to the smaller cord, letting go of the main one completely. He could hear wade whine about needing to throw up, likely from the swinging wires he was attached to at the moment (and the possibility of his partner in anti-crime dying at any moment.) 

 

It took a few back and forth swings, but he managed to reach the wall and grab onto a metal handle beside the door. Next to it was a ladder similar in style to the metal handle he was holding onto for maintenance workers. Peter was panting by the time he got to the wall and was actually somewhat considerably safer. "I'm on the wall! You can make it!" 

 

"Oh hell no!"

 

"Wade, we don't have time for this. It's the only way we both get back to reality, here!" 

 

Wade groaned and grabbed onto the cord, hesitant at first but finally climbing up to meet Peter as the cop managed to pry open the door. He was in the hallway by the time Wade made it to the second cord and Tarzan'd his way into the hallway as well. The smell of hospital was actually a lot more comforting than that of a dusty hot elevator shaft.

 

The lights were off on this floor as well. The plaque by the elevator entrance said 4 on it, so he had four more flights to get through until he got to his aunt may. "Okay. We need to find the stairs."

 

"Those goons will be all over the stairs, baby boy. Another option?" The ex-merc seemed to still be catching his breath while also trying to play it off cool, pretending like what they just did he did every day. It wasn't fooling Peter. 

 

"We could be cliche and steal uniforms, but it honestly feels safer to take the stairs." Peter brushed some of the dust off his arms. 

 

"Fine, I'll cover you." Neither of them had any weapons, so he'd have to rely on Wade's pure badassery to protect him while they made their way up. 

 

Despite the main lights being out, there was still enough backlights from things like exit signs to lead the way. It would sure as fuck be helpful if the goons didn't steal their cellphones, but that was pretty much the point. The men stopped at a Nurse's station to rummage through drawers in search of a flashlight. Peter's search was fruitless, but Wade managed to find two. With both men armed with light, they walked around the unit pretty much aimlessly to find the staircase. One of Peter's worst qualities is that his night vision is god awful and even with the flashlight, he couldn't quite remember where everything was on the floor. Not to mention he always just goes to the eighth floor, so he hasn't exactly been here before.

 

The echo of boots making their way down some hallway pass the on edge pair almost jump out of their skin. Yes they were both trained for situations like this, but it was high pressure and eerie and intense so, yeah, they got spooked this once. 

 

Wade's best and first reaction was to grab Peter by the waist and pull them both into a medical supplies closet closest to them, as well as them turning off their flashlights. It was almost pitch black inside save for the lights the terrorists were carrying and some random light sources barely filtering through to the hallway. It was a good call on Wade's part, so he commended his quick thinking. 

 

They were both breathing somewhat heavily as they tried to back away from the door in the tight closet so a shine of a light at the bottom of the door wouldn't reveal feet. The result of that was that Peter's back was pressed fully against Wade's front. He could feel the rise and fall of Wade's chest, his arm still wrapped around him with his hand still gently holding his waist. He could even feel Wade's heartbeat in his shoulder. The older man leaned forward to whisper in Peter's ear, "Having fun yet?" Low and gravely and wicked. 

 

Peter rolled his eyes, really grateful for the darkness right now because he felt his cheeks begin to flush. Why? It's not like he was gay or even had feelings for the ex merc anyway. But still, the hot breath on his neck, the rock hard body behind him and the hand placed somewhere he was used to holding Gwen by, not the other way around, all made his heart stutter and his throat dry. Being so close to someone brought back to life a warmth inside him that Peter could swore had wilted away, and the whisper shuddered straight down his abdomen - dangerously close to where Wade had his hand locked. 

 

It's been a long time since Peter's had any action. The last person he slept with was a drunken hook up that he regretted because of how little he remembered about the experience, and the fact that she was gone by the time he woke up anyway. Sure, that was the idea of a drunken hook up, but waking up hungover and alone is no one's ideal morning. He couldn't deny that Wade was an attractive man. His body was what most men only wished they could have, and his confidence was beaming, even if Peter got the feeling that sometimes it was all for show. It's not like Peter was captain confidence, either. For someone who was barely ever attracted to a man before, Peter's body was liking this proximity a bit too much. Not to mention the already present underlying adrenaline rush from the whole situation almost made him dizzy. 

 

Christ, he really needs to get laid after this. Peter isn't a hook up guy per say, but there are like a million apps for it and Peter is pretty sure he isn't going to find true love any time soon. May encourages him to date, but Peter finds it difficult. Not only with his grief over his lost fiancé, but he honestly doesn't have that much time these days. All his time is spent at the office or with Wade fighting crime. And here he was getting turned on during a life or death mission in the midst of a terrorist hostage situation. Getting laid was a must after this. If not for romance, then just so he can focus on his job one hundred percent. It wasn't Peter's preferred way of wetting his Willy for sure, but he doubted that the next person for him to fall in love with was anywhere nearby.

 

"I said I think we can head out, baby boy. I don't hear em anymore." Wade whispered again to the man in front of him who seemed to snap out of some deep thoughts.

 

"Right. Of course." The cop muttered back before opening the door and taking a cautious peek down both directions of the hallway before finally stepping out. Part of him missed the hand on his waist, part of him was swept back up in the actual situation at hand which was a relief compared to the feelings he'd have to face in that closet, ironically nonetheless. 

 

The stairwell wasn't too far off from the closet, which was a huge relief. Now that his mind was back on task, his insides were screaming that the eighth floor didn't have men with giant guns running around too. 

 

May's heart was so unstable, he didn't want to think about what such intense stress could do to her, much less what any of these criminals could do. Peter would need a big old reminder from Hammond about why they're targeting the Flannigan's and not Hydra. Maybe it had to do with Wade's volunteering, but the Flannigan's seemed to be on more of a "city mob" level while Hydra was in the "budding domestic terrorist group" category. If the FBI was working on Hydra, they needed to fucking show up and do their job already. 

 

Much to Peter's surprise, Wade actually managed to stay quiet throughout their entire time in the stairwell. They were moving as fast as possible while still being quiet, which did take a big chunk out of how fast they were actually able to be. They could hear men bustling down below, and needed to get far away from them undetected. Although, if the pair could take the four or so men downstairs unarmed, then they could steal their weapons and be safer for the rest of this fucking fiasco.

 

After what felt like hours, they made it up to the eighth floor. The lights were off but it didn't seem to be full of guards yet. "She's here somewhere. I can see other patients." Peter said to Wade as they scoped down the halls. 

 

"I'm gonna let them know the super-squad has arrived." Wade said before splitting off to let everyone in the other rooms know what was going on and what they should do. Peter kept on keeping on until he found may's room with the door shut. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst as he opened the door. What he was met with was a pole slamming into the back of his neck. " _ Ow _ !" 

 

"P-Peter is that you?" A frail old woman's voice was accompanied by the clang of the metal pipe meeting the tile floor. 

 

"You pack a punch, May. Geez." The cop rubbed where he was hit before being tackled in a hug from his dying aunt. The doctors had to be on crack when he told him how much she was weakening, unless she had insane super strength this whole time and no one told him about it. 

 

"You never believed me when I told you for all those years, huh?" She picked out a nice cocky grin to accompany her 'I-told-you-so' demeanor. She sounded like maybe today wasn't her best day but the fear and adrenaline of what might happen kept her going. 

 

"Where are all the nurses and doctors?" Peter pulled back and shined the light past her just close enough to see if she had any bruises. 

 

"The armed guys took them downstairs. They said they'd be back for us, but they didn't seem concerned with anyone on any kind of life support."

 

"Because they'd die within the day anyway." Peter grimaced, guiding May to her bed so she could rest. At least they could anticipate these guys being ruthless animals. 

 

"Do you know who they are? Are you here for work?" She always sounded so worried about Peter's cop stories and the creases in her forehead reaffirmed that fact. Of course she knew what his job was, but hearing about it just freaked her out, and when she freaked out, Peter freaked out. 

 

"Sort of. They're hydra which we thought was a mob group but they're turning out to be home grown terrorists judging by this whole monstrosity. I was here with my partner to visit his friend in the E.R. We're trying to get everything under control from the inside while the other authorities handle it from the outside."

 

"Is this the partner you're always telling me about?"

 

Peter was glad that Wade was in the other room so he couldn't hear her say that. He'd never live it down, "Yep, that's the guy."

 

"How is it going for you two?"

 

His aunt's question was simple enough, but with the closet thoughts in his immediate memory, he was fuzzy on his interpretation of what she said, "What do you mean?"

 

"You know, handling it from the inside. The terrorists?"

 

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah well we got stuck in an elevator and had to climb out through the top."

 

"Peter! That's incredibly dangerous! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" She was mad in a motherly way but she was glad he did it (safely) and was here with her right now. She was proud of Peter for always doing what he had to do. He reminded her of Ben like that.

 

"No no no nono, no heart attacks okay aunt May?"  Peter felt his heart leap through his chest at the prospect of her going through that again but still managed to chuckle anyway, his voice transparently and embarrassingly raw. The two froze in fear and silence as all the lights flared to life both in the room and out on the floor until Wade poked his head in. Even the TV turned on, but it was already on mute.

 

"Lights are back on I guess!" The blonde grinned and shot Peter a thumbs up.

 

"Is this Wade?" May smiled, feeling suddenly pretty tired from all the energy she used up waiting for Peter. Now that things seemed  _ mildly _ stable for a few minutes, she was relaxing and crashing at the same time. 

 

"I'm the one! Wade Winston Wilson,  _ at _ your service." Wade marched in and took May's hand gently, pecking each of her knuckles like he just walked out of some tacky movie from the 40s. 

 

"Oh my!" She giggled and gave Peter this flattered look of 'is this guy for real?' Since Ben died and she got sick, she wasn't exactly romanced. Peter smiled at the gesture as well, amused and also happy that his aunt seemed to be relaxing even if that also meant she would need some long bed rest later. 

 

"I'm guessing our Pete here has told you  _ all _ about me!" Wade was boasting as if he's led a life of fame and not one of a murder-spree artist. 

 

"Oh he has! Talks about you every time he visits me. You know, he hasn't been this...entertained in quite some time." She meant to say happy. He hasn't been this happy, but she didn't know the intricacies of their work relationship and didn't want to let Wade know 'hey, Peter is a recovering alcoholic in perpetual mourning and is in a deep depression but he's been happier since you came into the picture' because that sounded just a bit heavy as far as she knew. 

 

"May…" Embarrassed, Peter blushed and rubbed his temples. He may be in his twenties but when aunt may was talking to someone about him  _ in front of him _ , he reverted back into an embarrassed fourteen year old boy. Wade was eating it up. 

 

"Awww Peter! You're just the sweetest lil thing." Wade reached out and pinched Peter's bright red cheek. 

 

"A-Anyway," Peter swatted the hand away, "How do you feel?" Peter turned his attention back towards May. She was looking clammy and exhausted, especially in the light. 

 

"I feel fine, Peter, really." that was a huge lie. "I just need to lay down for a few minutes and I'll be ready to go."

 

"I don't know if that's such a great idea, sweet cheeks - and I do mean both of you. It's gonna be really dangerous downstairs. It's up to you guys, but I think mama-bear should sit this one out." Wade pulled over the doctor's rolling stool and sat in front of the pair. 

 

"Okay, um… May why don't you stay here and rest and we'll go sort things out and find a way out for you. We'll be really quick, I promise. Is that okay?" 

 

"Thank you… now Wade, you watch out for my Peter, okay? He's extremely precious to me." As the inevitable goodbye came about, tension in the room grew heavier and became more grim. Wade passed on a smartass remark and just nodded in agreement. 

 

Peter took this moment to slip a tiny medicine bottle into her hands that he had swiped from the medical supply closet earlier. Insulin. She already had needles in the small table next to her in the top drawer, and he knew that she knew that. They had an unspoken understanding that if something happened, if she could get close, she could use it on whoever wanted to hurt her. It wasn't much, but it was the best weapon he had to give her. The cop waited for a few moments, his aunt's hands in his with the bottle in between them, before standing up as if he had to physically tear himself away from being by her side. "Okay May, I love you. I'll see you soon. Really soon." 

 

"I know, dear. I love you so much so please be careful. Remember what the most important thing is." May reached her hands out to bring Peter in for a kiss on the cheek. Peter leaned in, got his kiss, and then kissed her forehead. "I can only take care of others if I take care of myself. I know." He pulled away and Wade stood up. She pounded this idea into his head over the last two years, well really since Captain Stacy's death but especially after Gwen's in an effort to just make Peter  _ take care of himself. _ To stop drinking all the time and sleeping too much or too little, and most of all, to get him to ask for help when he needs it. Peter had a love/hate relationship with this concept. It was easy enough, but after a certain point achieving that goal was met with mental roadblocks that he couldn't beat down very easily. That being said, comforting his aunt was comforting his aunt, and that's what she needed him to do. 

 

Before leaving, Peter looked at May and took in all her features as she shook and tucked herself into bed. 

 

"Can you stay with her?" Peter whispered to Wade at the door. He was just so scared of anything happening to her. 

 

"Peter, don't even try it!" She scolded from across the room. When she was so frail it was easy to forget that she could hear from miles away.

 

"May-" 

 

"No! He's more useful with you. You two are good together." She put on her strongest persona. The two were in balancing act of calming each other down and stressing each other out at the same time. 

 

Peter nodded like a sheepish teen. He didn't want to leave her alone, hell, that was the  _ last _ fucking thing he wanted to do, but she wouldn't take no for an answer and they didn't exactly have all the time in the world. "Be safe, May. We'll be right back." After a final exchange of I love you's that  _ better _ not be the last, Peter left with Wade, locking and blocking the door as best as he could. The lights being on helped a lot. It made things like raiding medicine closets for more needles and chemicals easy, which they did. It was as armed as they'd get for this. 

 

They had to get downstairs, take some terrorists down, rescues a hospital full of people, recover that laptop from the vents - if it was even still there, and get back to May as soon as they could. 

 

"You gonna be okay, Pete?" 

 

"Yeah. Everything is fine." Everything was not fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it! Please please leave comments so I know how it's going/what you guys think! I have more of a solid plan for how the rest of the story is gonna go so writing/updating isn't as intimidating as it has been for me.


	8. Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I"M So sorrRY. So damn sorry. Finals happened, and then I took a few days off of writing, but I really have been working on this piece by piece this whole time. I wrote it like a million different ways and just finished editing it and i'm done yall, here ya go. I'll start on the next chapter v soon. Enjoy!

"You know Pete, we don't have to break this habit of winding up in tight spaces together once this is all over. Trust me, I can do _very well_ in tight spaces." Wade spoke with the confidence of a man stood in front of someone way out of his league who thinks he might actually have a shot. Yep, Wade and Peter were hidden in yet another closet, but this time they had guns. And vests. And cool handy radios that kept them from running into too many Hydra goons. Peter has discovered that, apparently, Wade was a man who was unphased by stress because he was still able to make jokes while Peter was practicing breathing and calming techniques he learned in the academy and just trying to keep _focus_.

 

"Eh, you could be doing better. Not sure I feel satisfied yet." Peter whispered with a timid smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. In intense situations like this, sometimes it was easier to joke around for coping reasons, but it was still oddly conflicting with Peter's current state. Two paths pulling at each other, telling Peter how he should or shouldn't act in contradictory ways. Humor though, that was Wade's strategy, after all. A glance back saw Wade's mouth drop open and then shut, shocked by what he heard but already making his brain work overtime to come up with a good response to that.

 

"Well I was thinking tighter spaces than this closet," Wade mentally congratulated himself on the retort, but Peter brushed it off as usual. He was too busy listening for their next move.

 

Peter had the radio on very quietly so no one could hear them, but the drawback to that was that he had to keep it close to his ear to hear anything at all. Since their trip down the stairwell and their battle through any Hydra who were in it, Peter has learned that the hospital was completely surrounded and that this was definitely a purely terrorist act. They were demanding ransom or something, but Peter and Wade didn't think that's all they wanted. If Peter were gonna throw guesses around, which he totally was, he'd say they wanted this to affect the _country_ , not just New York City's wallet. This had to be national news by now, and that doesn't happen on accident. With all the terrorists running around these days, Hydra needed to go to extraordinary measures to be on top. That was Peter's thinking, anyhow.

 

While Peter couldn't contact the outside from this radio, he had a plan. Sort of. Get as many civilians away from Hydra as possible and get back that laptop. If he could get his phone, wallet, and credentials that would be pretty cool, too. He figured that aside from saving as many people as he could, the best thing to do would be to bring the leader of this operation to his knees and make an arrest before those outside stormed the place. He had to pave the way so that when they came in, there would be as little 'collateral damage' (AKA civilian deaths) as possible. The upper floors were less populated, but he didn't know how long that would last. The goons they found in the stairwell were headed up, after all.

 

They had made it to the second floor before deciding to duck off their path and investigate. Despite being armed and mildly protected on their chests and backs, the pair still couldn't make a big scene around the Hydra operatives. Lots of gunfire and ruckus would just attract more and they'd end up outnumbered before they knew it if they just waltzed into the hallway guns-a-blazing.

 

The second floor was mostly administration, a place where Peter has spent a lot of his time. They weren't directly above the emergency room, but they were pretty damn close. Hydra was right outside but they had to act eventually. Peter took a peek outside, seeing through the well funded second floor lobby. Sitting areas with light tables and blue lounge chairs, desks and fancy elevators, and even a gift shop. Oh, and tons of hostages. Likely everyone who worked in this area of the building plus some nurses, doctors, and patients waiting to leave and figure out the particulars of their discharge. If they had been discharged just a couple hours sooner, they wouldn't even be in this mess.

 

"It's pretty saturated out there, Wade." Peter whispered to the man hovering so close to him that he could feel heat radiating off his neck.

 

"We have guns. They're pretty good, too. Flannigan has been wanting to get his hands on these for a while." Wade admires the weapon in his hand. He obviously knew his guns pretty well. Guns, knives, swords, and explosives - all things Wade knew a lot about. And about sex, apparently, since that's all Wade seems to talk about. Although, the more he bragged about it the less inclined Peter was to buy into it.

 

"Are the Flannigan's like bargain brand Hydra or something?"

 

Wade thought about it, tilted his head, and nodded with a deep shrug of his shoulders, "Pretty much."

 

"That's kinda funny, kinda sad, like most things." Peter muttered under his breath as he considered the comparison. If he were tasked with bringing them down, he would sure as hell hope they weren't as scary as this, scary being the best way to describe whatever this was. Not only was Peter was a trained cop, but he also just wasn't a coward, he could handle himself, but goddamn if he wasn't scared as shit right now. Being a trained professional didn't make you less scared, it just put you in a place where you could control that fear and, in turn, control what was making you scared. Despite that, Peter was still somewhat of a newbie. He hasn't even been on the force for a decade yet, and before then he was just a science major and a nerd who got beat on a lot in high school.

 

The cop had to wonder if Wade ever got scared, or if it ever got the best of him. Was scared right now like Peter was? Wade has by far seen much more than Peter has - lived more than he has. Hell, the man has been married, has a kid (though that situation is way more complicated that it sounds), and he was in special forces and then a mercenary and _then_ a fucking mafia hit man. After all that, Wade was still alive and joking around and fighting the good fight, so was he scared? Was there anything the man couldn't handle?

 

Peter peeked out again and as he did, he saw one of the goons walking past. He was kind of smaller in stature, hunched over and skinny; overall lacking in confidence or competence. He was coming close to the closet, but obviously didn't know about Wade and Peter hiding in there. Peter wasn't worried about the goon catching them as much as he was about catching the goon. "I hope you can handle a space tighter than this, big shot," Peter reached out and strong-armed the goon into the closet with him, immediately covering his mouth. Wade was quick to respond and grabbed a hold of the man's arms behind his back while he squirmed, more scared than angry. It was almost like Wade had been in a situation like this before, which made Peter felt like way less of an authority then he did before. He felt like an undergrad watching his teacher effortlessly solve an equation that Peter had spent hours on: Out of his league, though he had to keep reminding himself that he _was_ in his league, and they were a team working together as equals.

 

"Hey, crazy running into you here, huh?" Peter said casually with a hint of strain behind gritted teeth. The operative, if you could call him that, looked between the two men with bug eyes and a hoarse whimper in his throat.

 

"No offense, Pete, but uh… why?" Wade was as confused as the other guy, making Peter momentarily question his judgement, but steeled himself and reminded him why he might have thought this was a good idea.

 

"He's gonna help us," Peter finally decided, "Aren't you?" He jerked the man by the arms to give him more of a jump, making sure he was paying close attention to what he had to say.  

 

The man shook his head and whined more, only shutting himself up when Wade escalated the situation to involve guns against a certain Hydra guy's head. Granted, the brunette was surprised by that, but hey, it worked. Per their agreement and per why Wade was even volunteering to help make a dent in the Flannigan's organization in the first place was that Wade wouldn't kill anymore. This is his atonement and condition of a clean slate so he can finally take care of his daughter. He wouldn't kill anyone. Besides, desperate times call for scaring the shit out of some people who deserve it, and honestly? The power radiating off Wade filled the closet and Peter really didn't mind it, though he wouldn't admit to himself why.

 

"What do you know about this whole shabang?" Peter only released his mouth long enough to let the man draw a deep and much needed breath before answering him.

 

The man tried to get out a weak "Hail Hydra!" only to be met with a joint-eyeroll and an elbow to the gut for even trying.

 

"T-They don't tell me a lot! Please don't kill me." This guy must be a young grunt. He didn't have half the composure someone in Hydra _should_ have. Wade had to admit, if Peter were going to do something absolutely insane, this is probably the best thing he could have done - picking after the weakest link.

 

"I said tell me what _you know_." Peter free from low in his throat.

 

"T-They have us stripping the hostages down into their underwear and keeping them down! P-Please don't tell Ajax..." Ajax, huh? Peter remembered something about Wade mentioning him in the past. Wasn't he the same as that Francis guy? Peter spared a glance at Wade who seemed to definitely perk up at the name, which was confusing as hell because didn't he actively _avoid_ Francis? Pete still didn't know why that even was, but no matter how curious he got, he wasn't going to pry into Wade's history because Peter knows how much he hates people digging into his.

 

"Why? Why are you all here? Why this hospital?" The brunette asked again, but with less patience.

 

"T-To prove a point."

 

"What point?"

 

"That Hydra is in control." Just the mention of the word Hydra seemed to fill the man with a little more confidence, but not enough.

 

A groan came from his left, Wade. "That is so lame. Did he really just say that?" The blonde rolled his eyes and dramatically switched the feet he was putting most of his weight on, clearly exasperated.

 

"I know, I know. Anyway, what's the endgame? Just gonna sit here until the police kick you out?"

 

"T-That's all I know! They're very secretive to people further down the food chain. I swear!" The man huffed, trying to maintain some confidence in himself that he had just moments ago. His ego was weak as evidenced by the fact that Wade's light teasing had him totally undone once again.

 

"Fine. You are gonna do something for us or so help me I'm going to blow your brains all over that door, understood?" Wade pressed the barrel of the gun harder to the man's head for emphasis.

 

He just nodded and locked eyes with Wade, squinting for a moment. "Hey, aren't you with the Flannigan's? That mercenary?" Wade's scars were pretty much a dead giveaway, even in a dark closet like this, and Wade didn't like that answer.

 

"You bet your ass I am. Actually, your ass doesn't fill me with too much confidence," Wade patted the man's hip to get a feel for it. He didn't grope him, just tapped him, which still made the man squirm. "Listen kid, you're gonna get as many of these innocent folk away from the others. Make a diversion for all I care, just get them the fuck out of here."

 

"I can't do that!" The sound of the safety on the gun going off seemed to change his mind. It even sent chills down Peter's spine.

 

"Don't worry pal, I believe in you." The goon didn't think Wade was being very reassuring.

 

"And if I don't?"

 

"The fuck you won't. I'll _seriously_ kill you. I have no qualms about that."

 

"Wade." None of this was planned, but Peter didn't want things to get out of hand. He didn't need anyone escalating any situation, it was high stakes enough.

 

"Right right. Anyway, one more thing before we set you loose."

 

"What?"

 

"Where the ever living fuck is Francis?"

 

"Francis?"

 

"Ajax, sorry. The dish soap man."

 

"Oh- his name is Francis?" A nervous laugh, more of a cackle, erupted from the goon and Peter allowed it because, dish soap? Really?

 

"It sure is, babe. Where is the British fuck?"

 

"H-He's on the third floor."

 

"Awesome!" Wade put the safety back on and lifted his hands in peace. "Go make daddy proud. Okay? Okay."

 

The man shoved past Peter and into the lobby, leaving the two men to plan a million different scenarios that could occur. He could totally ignore Wade's threats and do whatever he wants anyway, rat them out maybe. He might even do what they want him to do. It was hard to tell, but the kid seemed pretty easy to manipulate. What they really needed was for the room to be somewhat cleared of guards before they could keep moving without getting recaptured or shot dead. Then there was the problem of all the unarmed, half naked hostages out in the lobby. Yeah, them too.

 

"Who knew you could be so scary?" Peter remarked as he tuned the radio, bringing it close to his ear and squinting as if that would increase his hearing abilities, which Wade thought was _fucking_ adorable.

 

Wade scoffed at his question, knowing too well that Peter was just joking to be offended, but still kind of fixated on it. "Have you seen my face? Boo!" Wade flipped on his flashlight and held it under his chin for dramatic effect, to which Peter just stared and tried not to smile. It was easy to get caught up in humor in a situation like this, surprisingly, as it's a way out of facing the reality. In fact, Peter found himself smiling a lot more with Wade around, and the non-self-destructive part of him really loved that. The light cast a shadow on every scar on Wade's face, which were focused more on the left side of his face. The whole left side of his body was pretty scarred and burned, and even most of his torso. It wasn't a straight down the middle deal, but part of his right side was still pretty normal, including the right side of his face.

 

The brunette shrugged, "You look more like a puppy to me. The sad Alanis Morissette kind." Peter knew Wade was insecure about his scars, but Peter still let his curious mind wonder about how it would feel if he himself had scars all over his face and body. Would his life be any different? Feel any different? He wondered how Wade dealt with that when he was alone, and if Peter would ever get a chance to find out. After they got out of this, provided they made it out alive, he wanted to know more about Wade. He wanted to know what he thought and why he thinks those things, what has driven him to do the things he does. He wants to pick apart his brain as much as Wade would let him.

 

"I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said about my face. Well, since I got ugly anyway. I used to be called _way_ better things than _that_." Wade shut off the flashlight, but Peter could make out the moment of awe or shock in his features. Peter's brain wouldn't read too into it, not now, no matter how much he wanted to analyze it.

 

Peter sure as hell has his issues, but he finds comfort, in a weird way, in knowing that other people are as fucked up as he is. That he's not an outcast to everyone. He wasn't always. Sure, he was a nerd in highschool and got bullied all the time, but in college and the academy, things really fell into place. He had a good, happy, normal life and that was all pulverized by deaths and his own shitty choices. The officer wouldn't admit it to himself yet, because he couldn't quite identify this feeling, but Wade brought him the sensation that maybe he could have a stable and happy life somewhere he fit in, even after the last few years.

 

He hated himself, but he wanted that. He didn't deserve it, but all he wanted was a family and a normal life. It didn't have to be the same as his old one, but something akin to a home, friends, family, comfort, love. With Wade, it was more of an unexplained feeling than a thought.

 

That was all a moot point right now, though. The radio static finally cleared and Peter could make out the result of Wade's threats in action. The little device sounded that there was a gas leak in the basement and a slew of responses saying they were on their way. A peek outside showed that about a third of the guards outside were gone, which meant it was manageable. "Are you ready to go? We have a window."

 

"Lead the way, cap'n." Wade nodded in agreement. Peter braces himself for whatever may be there for them outside and pat himself on the back with the knowledge that he's 'trained for this, Parker. You'll be fine.' When Pete finally opened the door, one of the five guards immediately noticed them and signalled to the others about the intruders.

 

Wade took the lead and went for the three towards the left side of the room while Peter took the two on the right. The goal was to neutralize these assholes without actually killing them, because no matter how shitty of human beings they were, they didn't deserve to die. Peter would uphold that moral code forever until he died. He's lost enough to death to appreciate its gravity, and he doesn't want to perpetuate it.

 

Whatever the goons were saying became irrelevant once they pulled their guns on them. Peter got close enough to the man closest to him to push the gun upwards towards the ceiling in a quick movement before using his grip around the barrel to bash the guy's face with the butt of the gun, leaving him with a pretty hefty gash. He almost got distracted by a scream from the peanut gallery of half-nude civilians, but was kept in check by the fact that one of this guy's friends was coming at them.

 

While the Hydra operative was feeling his way around his brand new concussion, Peter pushed his weight and pushed him into the other goon who was getting way too close for comfort. The two of them went tumbling back against the granite floor. Peter delivered a kick to goon number two's head before snatching his gun away as well, taking care of them before either had a chance to open fire. The last thing you need in a room full of hostages is rapid gunfire.

 

Meanwhile, Wade was less conservative about the use of his gun, not seeming to mind the hostages lined up against the desks and walls. He was careful enough not to hit any of them as the pops rung through the lobby, bullets finding themselves embedded in the legs of two of the goons, but did cause quite a panic amongst them. By the time they had collapsed to the ground, the third guy was already on Wade. Peter turned to see their side of the fight just as Wade maneuvered out of the way in a manner Peter could only describe as graceful yet terrifying. Wade was pure strength and power, exercising precision and ease while absolutely attacking someone else, despite his ability to easily kill the man with a flick of his wrist. It was kind of mesmerizing, actually, like watching a cheetah chase a gazelle and finally go for the pounce in some old nature documentary. It was so natural for the blonde that it kind of stopped Peter in his tracks and reminded him that behind all the silliness and jokes and flirting, there was a bona fide killer underneath lying dormant. It just added to the whole colorful picture that is Wade Wilson. There was a reason his reputation was what it was, after all.

  
  


Wade smacked the butt of his gun against the back of the operative's head before he had gotten a chance to react to the evasion, disorienting him before Wade finally got him on the ground and held his arms behind his back. He made it look so _easy_. Peter took the handcuffs off the utility belts of the goons he disabled and went to secure the two wounded men on the ground so they couldn't try anything. After the next couple minutes, all five were cuffed and in a heap, some still bleeding, some clonked out for a while, or both.

 

Now was the time to take inventory of all the hostages. They were crying, shaking, and looking horrified at the last two men standing. They were all in their underwear and they ranged from doctors to administrators, patients to family members. Men and women, children and elderly, and everything inbetween.

 

"I need you all to stay calm. I'm with…" Peter considered his next words very carefully. He wanted to put the civilians at ease, but he didn't want the conscious goons in said heap to know that Wade is working with a cop if they could avoid it. It was important to make the fact that Wade was changing sides as unknown as possible, no matter where they were. "We're here to help."

 

While still keeping an eye on the goons, Wade shuffled over to the desks, looking for god knows what. Peter was oddly quiet until Wade returned with a huge canvas basket full of clothing, placing it the middle of the group.  "Come and get your threads, fellas,  even if you look awesome naked." Wade stood back but no one moved. "Come on, guys. Celebrate! Cover your lumps and what not!" Wade threw his hands up in the air. Everyone was scarily still until one woman with shoulder length brown hair slowly approached the basket, her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at her sides and somewhat hunched over, too scared to stand tall. Her eyes were trained on her saviors, still not willing to completely trust them. She glanced at the goons carefully before kneeling down next to the basket and digging through the clothes until she found her dress.

 

As soon as she held the floral red fabric in her hands, her lower lip quivered, her shoulders slumped, and the water works started. What she needed was to curl up and cry, but what she did was slip the dress over her head with shaking hands and smoothed out the skirt before falling back on her ass and curling into herself in front of everybody. One by one, each person began to approach the basket until there was a small crowd around it, all having similar responses.

 

Peter turned his head to look at Wade only to find that Wade was already looking at him, blue eyes soft and intense at the same time, and they both shared a proud smile. That seemed to be how Wade inherently was. He was two sides of a coin showing themselves at the same time with a perfect overlap; These folks weren't out of the woods yet, but they were on their way. The moment the lot of them shared was intimate and would either bring everyone in this room together, or be something none of them spoke about to each other or anyone else ever again. "That was really thoughtful, Wade. I'm almost surprised."

 

"Almost?" Wade cracked an even bigger, cockier grin than what he already had on.

 

"Almost. Don't get too carried away, we have to get them out of here," Peter was thankful that the situation at hand let him avoid the insinuation Wade was trying to make. He looked around for options, going through a mental checklist and crossing out all exits and doors. Exits would lead to more goons, doors would lead to rooms to be trapped in. It hit him suddenly in a eureka moment, what they should do, and he hurried over to the closest window. Outside, he saw police cars, trucks, and ambulances all grouped together with tons of cops and SWAT personnel organizing and planning outside. Maybe if he could get their attention, they could send a ladder up to the second floor and get these people out of here. He tried waving his arms around to no avail at first. After a few minutes of this, which felt more like a few hours, none other than Hammond himself noticed Peter's flailing in the second story window.

 

Thank god. Peter pointed to the nearby firetruck and motioned it for it to come closer. Hammond seemed confused at first but once it clicked, he had everyone move out of it's way to get the fire truck close by. "I found that way out." Peter left the window for just a moment to let everybody know what they were going to do. "Hey guys! So uh, I guess it's your luckiest and unluckiest day! Please line up by the window, okay?" The group seemed to erupt in more tears as they hugged each other, whether they knew each other or not, and began to move over to the window. A fireman used some cutting tool to pretty much take the whole pane of glass out of the frame, which felt like it took forever.

 

The radio in Peter's grasp sounded that the diversion fell through as Hydra caught on. They didn't have much more time. His heart rate was climbing every second that the window wasn't gone and that people weren't filing down to safety. He wants to save these twenty-something lives, not lose them and then some. Peter rushed to the nearest hallway and could almost hear the next wave of guards coming their way.

 

Finally, the window got safely taken off and the fireman started helping everybody down one by one. Wade was helping them transfer from solid ground to high up ladder. Peter rejoined them to talk to the fireman. "How is it in there?" The fireman asked as he helped the civies down the ladder.

 

"A mess. Hostages on pretty much every floor. We don't know much about what's going on. We've got five of Hydra's underlings ready to go through processing." Peter looked out at the see of emergency responders down below, sparing just a glance at the heap of assholes in the corner.

 

"Hammond said to tell you you can come out if you want, but we need someone on the inside to do things like this. We can send some people in if you need."

 

"Couldn't hurt. There are a lot of floors to cover and this is just the start of it." Peter sighed at the huge task in front of them, but already felt so much better now that he knew help was here. It made everything seem more doable and more routine, and less fight-or-flight-survival-mode.

 

"We'll send some people up. Are you staying or going?"

 

"We're…" Peter looked to where Wade was only to find that amidst their conversation, he had disappeared, "...staying. God dammit. Can you handle the lobby? Barricade it?" Peter put his hands on his hips, wondering where Wade could have possibly disappeared to.

 

"We're on it. As soon as the ladder is clear we'll send people up."

 

"Thank you. I gotta go find my partner." Peter stayed where he was just to keep an eye on the Hydra guys while all the civilians made their escape. He didn't know when Wade had split, but he could be anywhere by now - he could be in danger.

 

* * *

 

Wade knew that the situation there was stable once the firefighter told Peter he'd send up reinforcements. The ex merc wanted to tell Peter where he was going, what he wanted to do, but he knew Peter would follow and Wade just couldn't have that. He knew Francis was here, and he also knew he was high enough up on the food chain to have answers about what was going on. If Francis found out about Peter, he'd probably go slightly out of his way to hurt him just to get at Wade. That's his style. He's a sadistic little mother fucker and Wade wanted to keep Peter far away from that. He loved torturing Wade and he loved fucking with things that were inherently good, ergo, Peter. For Francis, it'd be a win-win.

 

Francis definitely had the lowdown on what was going on here, and Wade was going to get to the bottom of this. Hell, he'll even give all the credit to Peter at the end of this if that'd help his career at all. The thing is, Francis is a very great direct threat to the person in the world he loves most - his little girl. As long as Francis and her are alive at the same time, she's not safe, more so from him than anyone else in Hydra or the Flannigan's or the combination of the two because Francis, again, is a sick bastard and Wade is going to literally cut his head off before he gets a chance to get his grimey British hands on his daughter. Whether or not that happened today was up in the air, but he hoped it was. _God_ he hoped it was.

 

As soon as he ran into some of those stupid thugs, he told him who he was and who he wanted to speak to and they took him exactly where he needed to be, giving him exactly what he wanted. Peter would be fine where he was and he had people around him to help him out, people with as much of or more training that he has.

 

The goons could have been more gentle, considering Wade was only feigning protest at being captured, but they got him from point A to point B nonetheless, point B being the basement level of the hospital and right in front of Francis's little make-shift command center. Wade hated hospitals, and he especially hated hospitals when Francis was in them. The lights were too bright, it smelled too weird - like a mix between sterile and dirty.

 

"Well well. I thought I smelled something distasteful." The bald British asshole smirked, pacing in front of Wade who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, taking his time.

 

"Aw, you setting aside this time just for me?" Wade blew a kiss at Francis who just gave him an eye twitch and lopsided grin full of resentment. The blonde didn't have to look closely to see that the man's jaw was clenching.

 

"You can uncuff him, boys. This won't take long." Francis waved off the two goons who followed his order, leaving Wade with free range of his arms and some red marks around his wrists. Once alone, the two men fought for dominance through body language. Francis rolled his already broad shoulders back and Wade leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, fearless.

 

"Nice fellas. They sure know how to treat a man," Wade's voice was smooth and innocent as always, but laced with poison. He is both most uncomfortable and comfortable around Francis than anyone else. It's sick, but there is a part of Wade that just inherently understands Francis, even though he's hard to believe. Wade could have been him if his brain chemistry was a little more fucked up, they have more or less the same ranking in each of their crime groups, relatively close in age, both powerful killers. Wade was overly emotional and Francis felt nothing at all. That same parallel was also what left Wade so perturbed, and because Francis could snap and weasel his way into his daughter's life at any time if he found out.

 

"Aw, how about we cut the foreplay, hm? I hear you're snooping around with a police officer. Flannigan's paying him off? Blackmail? I did some snooping on the poor bastard." Well he sure started off in a strong foot. Granted, Wade should have expected this seeing as how when they were stuffed in that damn elevator earlier _both_ their I.D.'s were taken. Still, he didn't know what dirt he could possibly gather on Peter. Wade worked with lots of people, so as long as he didn't know how Wade really felt about him, he'd probably be okay.

 

That being said, the whole point of coming down here alone was to leave Peter out of his feud with Francis. They just work together and Peter is more than capable of taking care of himself, but Wade became protective over him quickly and maybe also was falling pretty hard for the young officer already. It wasn't his fault that Peter was so fucking beautiful inside and out, no matter how damaged he is. In fact, he quickly joined the small few who Wade _really_ cares about and that meant that Francis was allowed nowhere near him or his pert little ass.

 

"Oh now you're just fishing, Francis, honestly. He's got nothing to hide." Of this Wade felt positive, but Francis just stopped in his tracks and scoffed.

 

"I thought you googled _everyone_ with pretty eyes." Francis knew him too well and it was fucking arrogant. The two men used to be more than just sworn enemies. In fact, he knew Wade back when Wade met his ex-wife Shiklah, but that's an entirely different story. They have a long history that didn't start out hateful, but grew to be just that more and more as time went on. It's a chapter of Wade's history book that he would like to close. "I mean, I saw you two on the security footage, you know. You seem pretty fond."

 

"Get to the point, Francis," One of Francis's main ploys was using irrelevant information to distract whoever it was he was interacting with, and Wade refused to fall for it. Refused to let Francis pray on his admittedly high emotional current. That being said, the involuntary bob of his Adam's apple and the strum in his heart were a lot more gullible than Wade was himself. This was shit, and the thought of Francis finding a real tangible and emotional connection between Wade and Peter scared the shit out of the ex merc.

 

"What's all this showboating for?" The ex merc reached into his jacket pocket and anxiously fiddled his fingers. Well, that's what Francis would think. In reality, he was adjusting the channel and input volume on a radio he swiped from the guards on his way down here. He knew Peter was listening in on one of hydra's main channels, but hopefully he would be smart enough to channel surf just long enough to find Wade's. Wade was no legal expert, but this might even count as a confession, but would definitely put a stop to whatever they were planning and give Peter an idea of what to do next.

 

"You want to know?" The man considered it for a moment before giving a nod, "It's all about publicity," He popped his mouth at the end, "and that's exactly what we're going to get. Already have gotten, honestly."

 

"Publicity? _Really?_ That's it?" Wade rolled his eyes. Typical.

 

"Oh yes. Hydra is going to become an overnight sensation, and there's nothing anyone can do about us. You know why?"

 

"No? I'm actually losing interest, so…"

 

"Because Hydra is going to take over the nation at _least_. I know, I know. Big ambitious, but we have our ways. Like large scale executions. Everyone on even numbered floors."

 

Say what now? "That's stupid," Wade thought that was way more than stupid, but more in the 'holy shit that's bad' kind of way.

 

"Oh, once the we have everyone's attention, this is going to slaughter. Should be anytime, now." Francis leaned against his desk and spoke as if this were no big deal at all. Wade hoped Peter was hearing some of this, or at least someone on his side was. This was bad, and they didn't have much time left.

 

"I guess I have to kill you so that doesn't happen." Wade propped up off the wall and scanned the room for something he could use. There were guns, but they were behind Francis. Chairs, maybe as a start. Papers, a lamp, a pen, a bed and so many more options that just wouldn't do the job.

 

"As usual, no. You'll be the one who ends up floating in a river, and I'll be out of here before they raid the joint. I'll make quick business of you." Francis actually went for the giant serrated knife strapped to his hip instead of one of the many guns behind him. Wade was pretty much backed up into a corner, but he has gotten himself out of worse in the past. This was still pretty fucking bad, though. His best bet was if Peter was in on the whole conversation, but for all he knew it was a waste to come down here and fight for his life. Wade knew one thing for certain: This was probably going to be his best chance to off Francis, and he was going to take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought in the comments! Thanks for putting up with me, guys! This whole dumb arc (this whole hospital thing was something i extremely underestimated and did not plan for at all) will be done in the next chapter and we can move on to stuff I actually did plan


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